The Story

[Guest Starsky]

Years ago, there was a very wealthy man who, with his devoted young son,

shared a passion for art collecting. Together they traveled around the

world, adding only the finest art treasures to their collection. Priceless

works by Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet and many others adorned the walls of the

family estate. The widowed elder man looked on with satisfaction, as his

only child became an experienced art collector. The son's trained eye and

sharp business mind caused his father to beam with pride as they dealt with

art collectors round the world.

As winter approached, war engulfed the nation and the young man left to

serve his country. After only a few short weeks, his father received a

telegram. His beloved son was missing in action. The art collector anxiously

awaited more news, fearing he would never see his son again. Within days,

his fears were confirmed. The young man had died while rushing a fellow

soldier to a medic.

Distraught and lonely, the old man faced the upcoming Christmas holidays

with anguish and sadness. The joy of the season - a season that he and his

son had so looked forward to - would visit his house no longer.

On Christmas morning, a knock on the door awakened the depressed old man. As

he walked to the door, the masterpieces of art on the walls only reminded

him that his son was not coming home. As he opened the door, he was greeted

by a soldier with a large package in his hand. He introduced himself to the

man by saying, "I was a friend of your son. I was the one he was rescuing

when he died. May I come in for a few moments? I have something to show

you."

As the two began to talk, the soldier told of how the man's son had told

every one of his - not to mention his father's - love of fine art. "I'm an

artist," said the soldier, "and I want to give you this." As the old man

unwrapped the package, the paper gave way to reveal a portrait of the man's

son. Though the world would never consider it the work of a genius, the

painting featured the young man's face in striking detail.

Overcome with emotion, the man thanked the soldier, promising to hang the

picture above the fireplace.

A few hours later, after the soldier had departed, the old man set about his

task. True to his word, the painting went above the fireplace, pushing aside

thousands of dollars of paintings. And then the man sat in his chair and

spent Christmas gazing at the gift he had been given.

During the days and weeks that followed, the man realized that even though

his son was no longer with him, the boy's life would live on because of

those he had touched.

He would soon learn that his son had rescued dozens of wounded soldiers

before a bullet stilled his caring heart. As the stories of his son's

gallantry continued to reach him, fatherly pride and satisfaction began to

ease the grief.

The painting of his son soon became his most prized possession, far

eclipsing any interest in the pieces for which museums around the world

clamored. He told his neighbors it was the greatest gift he had ever

received.

The following spring, the old man became ill and passed way. The art world

was in anticipation. With the collector's passing, and his only son dead,

those paintings would be sold at an auction. According to the will of the

old man, all of the art works would be auctioned on Christmas day, the day

he had received his greatest gift. The day soon arrived and art collectors

from around the world gathered to bid on some of the world's most

spectacular paintings.

Dreams would be fulfilled this day; greatness would be achieved as many

would claim "I have the greatest collection." The auction began with a

painting that was not on any museum's list. It was the painting of the man's

son. The auctioneer asked for an opening bid. The room was silent. "Who will

open the bidding with $100?" he asked.

Minutes passed. No one spoke. From the back of the room came, "Who cares

about that painting? It's just a picture of his son. Let's forget it and go

on to the good stuff." More voices echoed in agreement. "No, we have to sell

this one first," replied the auctioneer.

"Now, who will take the son?" Finally, a friend of the old man spoke. "Will

you take ten dollars for the painting? That's all I have. I knew the boy, so

I'd like to have it."

"I have ten dollars. Will anyone go higher?" called the auctioneer. After

more silence, the auctioneer said, "Going once, going twice. Gone." The

gavel fell.

Cheers filled the room and someone exclaimed, "Now we can get on with it and

we can bid on these treasures!"

The auctioneer looked at the audience and announced the auction was over.

Stunned disbelief quieted the room. Someone spoke up and asked, "What do you

mean it's over? We didn't come here for a picture of some old guy's son.

What about all of these paintings? There are millions of dollars of art

here! I demand that you explain what's going on here!"

The auctioneer replied, "It's very simple. According to the will of the

father, whoever takes the son... gets it all."

[Luzia]

Very nice, very smart, I wish I had a fortune like to that do something like that.

[Snow]

Blah!

I can't stand manipulative syrupy, smarmy drivel that beat over the head with a point so blatant that it better belongs on a episode of The Fact of Life TV show.

[Guest curvette]

Originally posted by Snow@May 17 2004, 04:43 PM

Blah!

I can't stand manipulative syrupy, smarmy drivel that beat over the head with a point so blatant that it better belongs on a episode of The Fact of Life TV show.

Really Snow! You know you've sunken to a new low when you start insulting Tooty!

[Guest Starsky]

Originally posted by Snow@May 17 2004, 04:43 PM

Blah!

I can't stand manipulative syrupy, smarmy  drivel that beat over the head with a point so blatant that it better belongs on a episode of The Fact of Life TV show.

LOL...who peed in your cherrios?

[Outshined]

Don't be talkin' bad 'bout Natalie, either!

[Jenda]

I, personally, liked this story. Even though I have read it before, I cried when I read it again.