Fiction — invented for fun
The Certificate Printer for Small Wins
A desk machine that prints a formal, gold-bordered certificate for achievements such as remembering to take the washing in before it rained.
It sits on the sitting-room table, about the size of a bread bin, with a brass crank handle on one side and a narrow slot at the front. You set a few letters describing your achievement, turn the handle a dozen times, and out comes a certificate on heavy cream card with a gold border, a serial number and a line for a signature. Each one takes about forty seconds and a moderate amount of effort, which the makers say is part of the ceremony.
Nobody asked for it, because the achievements it commemorates are not really achievements. AWARDED FOR REMEMBERING TO TAKE THE WASHING IN BEFORE THE RAIN. AWARDED FOR REPLACING THE BIN BAG INSTEAD OF BALANCING ONE MORE THING ON TOP. AWARDED FOR DEFROSTING SOMETHING AT THE CORRECT TIME OF DAY, an unusually rare distinction, issued only a handful of times in the history of the product and framed on every occasion.
The strange thing is what happens to the certificates. They were designed as a joke, and the manufacturer fully expected them to go straight into the recycling. Instead, they go on fridges. They go in wallets. They get propped up on mantelpieces beside wedding photographs. One owner found her father’s certificate, FOR PUTTING THE LADDER AWAY IMMEDIATELY, still pinned to the back of his workshop door years after he last turned the handle.
The printer has no other function. It does not connect to anything, track anything or remind you of anything. It simply waits on the table until something small goes right, and then it makes rather too much of it, which is the entire product. A grandmother pictured with the machine says she prints one every Sunday evening, for whoever in the family has done the kindest small thing that week, and that the competition has become fierce.
Behind the joke is something many people find genuinely useful. Noticing small successes, rather than only big ones, can make ordinary days feel more worthwhile, whether it is ticking something off a list, writing down three good things before bed or simply saying “well done” for a chore finished without fuss. Tiny wins are easy to overlook, because they are tiny, but they make up most of daily life, and a little recognition can go a long way.
So you do not need a brass-handled printer to celebrate the small things, although it would certainly make an impression. A note on the fridge, a quick thank-you or a proud announcement at dinner will do the job nicely. The next time you remember the washing before the rain, or put the ladder away straight after using it, give yourself a moment of recognition. Nobody else may notice, but that is exactly why it deserves a certificate.