The person who makes me doesn't need me. The person who buys me doesn't use me. The person who uses me never knows it. What am I?

This classic riddle cleverly plays on our understanding of life's ultimate certainty. The solution hinges on recognizing the roles individuals play in relation to a specific object. Consider the artisan who crafts this item: they are alive and well, performing their trade, and thus have no immediate personal use for their creation. Their skill is applied for others.

Next, think about the individual who acquires this object. While they may select and pay for it, it is not for their own direct benefit or use. Instead, it is purchased out of necessity, often during a time of grief, for another individual who has passed away. The buyer is merely an intermediary in its journey.

Finally, the true "user" of this item is someone who, by definition, is no longer aware of their surroundings. They are at peace, enclosed within it, and completely unconscious of the object that now serves as their final resting place. This poignant reality is what makes the answer so fitting and, in a way, profoundly human. Across many cultures and throughout history, such containers have been an integral part of funerary rites, evolving from simple shrouds to elaborate caskets, reflecting societal values and beliefs about death and the afterlife. They serve as a final vessel, a temporary home before ultimate decomposition or cremation, and a focal point for remembrance for those left behind.