Five Cards

A Story by izuninja

The rules were simple, but the game itself impacts a lot thought. I have played this game with lots of people. I remember my first time. I told him, ‘here are the cards. There are five of them.’

The idea of the game is to have a card with a high number, but as you turn over a new card, you must discard the previous one. I tell him that every time I’ve showed someone else this game, they mostly make the same mistakes. I turn over the first card and reveal the very first number: [76]. When I first played even I thought, ‘is it out of a hundred?’ If it were out of a hundred, everyone would stick with the first card. But what if it were out of a thousand, or a million? It’s the uncertainty that makes people pick a second card. If they stuck with just seventy-six, and found out that the next card was in the thousands, they’d kick themselves.

Pete asked, “another card please?” Perhaps it was my long hair, but he wasn’t paying attention to me when I boldly said that almost everyone makes the same mistakes. The next card shows: [32]. The second card is about half the first value, but just below. People still think that it could possibly be out of a much larger number, and no matter what, thirty-two appears to be a scam. Without much delay, “another.”

I like to think that these cards represent opportunities in life. No one wants to look like a fool and stick with something when they don’t know its relative value. You’re offered five cards in this game, and they could hold any number, why stick with the first one? The next card reveals the number: [1]. “What? That’s horrible, I got the lowest number!” With two cards left, Pete’s next choice was predictable.

People are given first opportunities in many aspects of life. Whether it’s a job or love, people always wonder if there’s a better one out there. With no ability to compare, we are unable to decide if something is worth committing to. When Pete drew the number one, he felt bad for not sticking with either of the first two cards. Like a homeless person, he appreciates whatever he had before much more so.

Obviously the seventy-six would be most ideal, but normally if people are given the choice to go back to thirty-two or draw a new card, some would go back. “Well there’s nothing lower than one… I may as well turn over a new card. If it’s anywhere near around seventy-six I’m sticking with that.” By this point his hope for a thousand or maybe a million is gone, he now appreciates what he was given before. I turn over the new card, knowing what was coming. It’s never what people expect.

The new card shows: [0.01]. Pete’s assumption that one was the lowest number was a common mistake. Before he thought that things couldn’t be worse. While it would be nice if the next card were a million, or even just anything close to thirty, it really doesn’t matter anymore, he would accept a two. People with big dreams are unable to appreciate what they have. Why shouldn’t a child hope to be a millionaire or marry the most beautiful girl in the world? What is wrong with hoping for the best, and giving up on what you have to make room for something better? To Pete, seventy-six is now a large number, whereas before he doubted if it was even a fraction of the other cards held.

“I really should have stuck with seventy-six!” Pete laughs, as I smile. Perhaps this was all a lesson? Perhaps all it was for him to understand his mistakes, learn to appreciate what he’s given, and now he’ll be rewarded for that. Whether or not life treats him to a larger opportunity, he would walk away from this with a lesson learnt. Without waiting for him, I give him the final card. It’s blank.

I hope Pete, whoever he is, takes from this game a valuable lesson. Whether wealthy or poor, I hope he appreciates what he has. In the struggle to become better versions of ourselves, we put ourselves at risk of loss. Some would argue that, so long as we have our health it’s okay, that everything else is superficial; why not take the risk? But the fact is that we will only feel bad if we give up something we once had, not what we could have had. I tell Pete to enjoy the rest of his time at the fair, and give a bow to say goodbye.

When I looked up, he was gone. He turned over the card that had nothing on it, so as I packed them up I collected all of the other cards first. I put them face down over the fifth card to put it away in the small box they came in. But before I do, I glanced at the bottom of the fifth card. Seventy-six was written in ink.