Autobiography of a compass

I am a compass. Like the people that use me, our kind has gone through its fair share of changes through our time on this earth, and we owe it to our creators, and those they pass us on to. 

I am not a young compass by any means and have seen my share of adversity and adventures. My origins are unknown to me, but I do remember the first time I felt alive - in the hands of my first master, a young soldier who, much like me, was full of youth, but with little experience of the world. He fought in what the creators chose to call a ‘world war’, and apparently, this was the second one.

I thought my purpose back then was to only show my master the direction he needed to go, using the red point of my needle to point north. Indeed, that was all I did, until we landed on the shores of a place whose name I do not recall, but whose memory I still keep in my core. My master kept me in his breast pocket, ready to be used whenever necessary. He was one of the first soldiers to storm what was called ‘the front’, and if the ‘front’ was that dangerous, I could only imagine what the ‘back’ would have been like.

It was after this fight that I understood my true purpose. Of course, I was still a device to guide my master, But I was much more. I served as a reminder of home when all hope seemed lost, and I served as a reminder of the loved ones, without whom my master would have no one to go back home to. 

I stuck with my master to the very end of the conflict, serving as a guide, both literally and metaphorically. He held me close when the shelling got intense, when his friends and comrades fell beside him, and when it was finally time to go back home. He wore me proudly on his chest at the victory parades, and I, being a mere piece of metal, felt like I was on top of the world.

Soon, my master got old, and it was time for him to leave the world. I was passed on to his kids, and then his grandkids, serving as a reminder of both my master and of the past that we soldiered through together as one. 

I now understand our kind’s true purpose. The value I add is not in my metal or the precision of my needle. I am valuable because I bring comfort to the uncertain and because I remind those who hold me that even when they feel lost, the world still holds a way forward. I serve not only as a tool, but as a symbol that there is always something to look forward to. 

I am neither grand nor loud. I do not demand attention like the beacon of a lighthouse. I am but a whisper, a hand on the shoulder. I will not claim to choose the path. I merely show the way.

I am a compass, and as long as there are those who seek direction, I will always have a place in the world.