A certain man wanted to sell his house in Haiti for $ 2,000. Another man wanted to buy it, but because he was poor, he couldn’t afford the full price. After much bargaining, the owner agreed to sell the house for half the original price with just one stipulation: he would retain ownership of one small nail protruding from just over the door.
After several years, the original owner wanted the house back, but the new owner was unwilling to sell. So the first owner went out, found the carcass of a dead dog, and hung it from the single nail he still owned. Soon the house became unlivable, and the family was forced to sell the house to the owner of the nail.
- From the book of Charles Swindoll: “Charles Swindoll’s Favorite Stories and Illustrations”
In this situation, the original owner f the house knows that when he sell his house, the new owner of the house will not sell it back to him again, that is why he made an agreement to retain his ownership to one small nail jutted out from just over the door, so if the new owner of the house refuses to sell the house, he will put a dead body of a dog to the nail he still owned.
This act was really unethical. Imagine, after several years of not showing, you will just come and another’s lives… We, human beings, people of the world, clearly, are a moral thinkers and actors. God has given us the ability to distinguish from right ad wrong for us to think rationally and act as a human not like an animal. And because of that reason, we must act according to why we are created and why we were born in this kind of society. But why do we act more an animal than those what we call animal? We are like a rotten (what I mean is “bulok”) tomato mixed with fresh and good tomatoes, polluting them and destroying them little by little in such a way that we became immoral.
We choose to become bad rather than of being good because we refuses to accept what we are and/ or who we are. But, if we could only change this kind of attitude, maybe we would have a peaceful life with our fellow neighbors.

