The first time, it was a bronze file. He ran to me with a joyful smile and love in his heart. "For you, Labadal!" But I knew whose it was, and after thanking my small friend, I returned it. As the father of a small son he understood that no theft was meant. The next time, it was a block of finely-grained oak. I bade him return it himself. "Give with a free hand, but give only your own!" I told him.

But the knife, that is his to give. Though it troubles my heart I cannot deny his generosity.

(Author's Note: For those not familiar with the fuller version of Turin's story as told in The Children of Húrin, when Túrin was very small, he used to "find" things that he would bring to his friend the woodwright Labadal as "gifts". A few years later when he was older, Túrin's father gave him a fine Elven-made knife as a birthday gift, which Túrin subsequently gave to Labadal.)