Yesterday was December 4. While walking toward the shore in the late afternoon, I passed by a seafood restaurant. Sheets of paper were spread across the tables, and on those papers I heard the crack of shells, small snapping sounds, and the strange seriousness with which people were cleaning crabs. It felt almost like a ritual. My eyes caught on one detail the claws of the crabs. In nature they look threatening, armored by their shells, defending themselves with those sharp claws. Yet here they were, breaking helplessly between two human fingers. On one side a creature that appears strong, on the other a human finger that appears weak. And the balance of power was nothing like I imagined. I paused for a moment. There was a strange lesson hidden inside that scene Strength is not always what it looks like from the outside. Sometimes a claw is not enough to defend yourself. And sometimes a finger is far more determined and far more precise than you expect. The crab’s claws reminded me of the ways humans defend themselves. We build shells, wear armor, sharpen our edges so no one can hurt us. But eventually there comes a moment when even the smallest touch can shatter us completely. Maybe the question is not who is stronger but who is more persistent, more prepared, more hungry. At nature’s table and at life’s table the result is the same It is not the hardness of your shell that matters. It is the determination of what reaches inside it. December 4 made me realize this A person is not defeated by their strong side, but by the fragile place they ignore. When I returned home in the evening, I opened my history notebook as I always do. I looked at the page and asked myself, What happened on December 4? At the top of the page there was a single line: December 4, 1991 – Pan Am declared bankruptcy. I paused for a moment. Pan Am had once been the strongest name in the sky. A giant brand that flew to every corner of the world, appearing untouchable. Yet in the end it shattered like a claw snapping under pressure. It was exactly like the scene I had watched earlier that day: The crab that looked strong, breaking apart between fingers that looked weak. There was a similar lesson in the fall of Pan Am. Everything that appears powerful depends on a fragile inner balance. An economy trembles, a decision is delayed, competition rises, and the giant collapses like a paper table. In that moment I understood something: No one in life is truly untouchable. Not a crab, not a person, not an empire. What destroys us is rarely the great blows from the outside. It is the small weaknesses inside us that we never notice. December 4 made me think this: If you have claws you may look strong, but if your inner balance is fragile even the weakest finger can open you. And at the end of the day I wrote to myself: A person is defeated not by their strong side, but by the weakness they refuse to see. Yesterday was a heavy day for the shareholders of Pan Am, but it was a light one for me. Because I was only thinking about the fragility of a crab, while they were carrying the collapse of an empire on their shoulders.