An Easter Master Piece
In the years just before WWII, a wealthy man who had lost his
wife to cancer took comfort in the strength of his relationship with his son.
The father's active enterprise in collecting fine art had occasioned his gaining
a private collection, including priceless works by Monet, Rembrandt and Van
Gogh. Now his sons trained eye and sharp business mind increasingly caused the
father's heart to warm with satisfaction, seeing the young man deal with some of
the finest art collectors in the world.
With the onset of the war, the boy was drafted into military,
and after only a few weeks his father received a telegram: his son had been
killed in action.
With the announcement came word of a medal of honor-for the
man's son had lost life in a heroic act that saved the lives of several men in
his platoon.
A late autumn cold turned to pneumonia, and the grieved widower
seemed even more weakened by his son's death. It was Christmas Day when a knock
on the door of his home revealed the presence of one man in his son's military
unit. He soon discovered it was one of the men his son's action had saved. He
had not only come to express words of comfort, but he had also brought a gift.
As soldier began to open a large package, he explained. "Sir,
one of the guys in our platoon is an artist of sorts, and we all paid him a
little something to draw this for you." The folds of the paper were removed, and
there was a simple, yet remarkable lifelike likeness of the man's son. When the
soldier began apologize for the simplicity of the painting-seeing the expensive
works of art in the room-the father said, "But this is my son, and his picture
shall be hanged over the mantle---central to my collection!"
The passing of the winter months brought a steady decline in the
father's health, and it was nearly Easter when he died-an event which drew much
attention in the world of art collection. Collectors everywhere were now
awaiting the announcement of the auction that would dispose the man's coveted
collection, for it was known he had no heirs.
On the appointed day, art experts from around the world
gathered-the art world was in high anticipation, for the announcement had been
made that according to the will of the man, all his art works would be auctioned
on Easter-as a commemoration of his son's death providing the gift of life for
many others. Dreams would be fulfilled on this day: greatness would be achieved
as some would have their personal collection enhanced with elegance of
remarkable and historic works.
A moment of surprise opened the auction, when the auctioneer
first displayed a fairly simple painting-the portrait of a young man; a painting
thought hardly worthy by the critics and connoisseurs gathered. "Who will open
the bidding on the first offering?", invited the auctioneer, opening the sale. A
murmur floated through the room, one or two muffled expressions of laughter-then
one of the collectors present complained, "Come on. Please! Who cares about that
painting? Lets get on with what we came for." "No," answered the auctioneer. "We
have to present this one first. Could I at least have a bid of $100?"
His appeal was met with stony silence, until someone on the far
side of the room spoke. "Sir, I'm just a neighbor friend of the gentleman whose
collection you've gathered to bid for. The picture is of his son, and if no one
is going to make an offer, I'd like to. I'm sorry-I have little money: I only
came because of my long time neighborly friendship. I only have $50. Will you
accept that offer?"
"I have $50," called the auctioneer. "Will anyone go higher?"
The silence, with some accompanying irritation among the group, continued; then
the auctioneer said, "Going, once-twice-and gone," as his gavel came down. A
light applause swept the room as collectors now leaned forward to get on with
that they had come for, only to hear the auctioneer announce that the auction
was now over.
What do you mean, it's over? What
about all these paintings? There are millions of dollars of masterpieces here.
We demand that you explain what's going on. When are you going to offer the rest
of these?" The auctioneer replied, "I told you--the auction is over. There
aren't any more paintings to offer.
It's all very simple. According
to the will of the father, whoever takes the son, gets it all!"
Doesn't the Heavenly Father
say the same thing?
