Cnr of Park Rd and MacMahon St, Hurstville Sundays at 9:30 am and 6:30 pm
In investment circles, to catch a falling knife is to buy a stock whose share price is plummeting rapidly, with the hope of a quick recovery and a generous profit, only to find the very opposite: the stock lower in value and oneself cut and confused. Maybe that’s why losses on the stock market are marked in red, and heavy losses are referred to as a ‘bloodbath’. But sometimes, if the fundamentals of the company are still sound, the knife is worth reaching out for. There once was a stock that fell rapidly one Friday morning, and by the time that he stood before Pontius Pilate, the stock was in freefall. “Crucify him! Crucify him!” they cried. Everyone had hit the SELL button and had dumped their early investment, and few could be found to hold their nerve in the face of what looked like a falling knife. And particularly when that knife took on a more physical presence.
But some men did, and some women too. John. Mary. Another Mary. The thief. Nicodemus. Joseph of Arimathea. All held their nerve as the stock plunged into darkness. And all held their hope when the stock bottomed out in the grave, and lay silent like one of those immoveable pennies. But when the markets opened again on the Sunday morning, all of them were rewarded to see their stock rise nicely, and their investment pay a dividend for which there are not enough zeros to describe.
DM 25th August 2015