Created 8/18/1999
Who'll Take The Son!
About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at
the door.
A young man stood at the door with a large package in
his hands.
He said,"Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom
your son gave his life.
He saved many lives that day, and he was
carrying me to safety when a bullet stuck
him in the heart and he died
instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art.
The young man held out his package. "I know this isn't much.
I'm
not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you
to have this."
The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his
son, painted by the young man.
He stared in awe at the way the soldier
had captured the personality
of his son in the painting. The father was
so drawn to the eyes
that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked
the young
man and offered to pay him for the picture. "Oh, no sir, I
could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."
The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors
came to his home
he took them to see the portrait of his son before he
showed them any of the other great works he had collected.
The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction
of
his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing
the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their
collection. On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer
pounded his gavel. "We will start the bidding with this picture of the
son.
Who will bid for this picture?"
There was silence. Then a voice in the back of the room shouted.
"We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one." But the
auctioneer persisted.
"Will someone bid for this painting? Who
will start the bidding?
$100, $200?" Another voice shouted angrily.
"We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van
Gogh's,
the Rembrandt's. Get on with the real bids!" But still the
auctioneer continued.
"The son! The son! Who'll take the son?"
Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room.
It was the
long-time gardener of the man and his son.
"I'll give $10 for the
painting."
Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.
"We have
$10, who will bid $20?"
"Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters."
"$10 is the bid,
won't someone bid $20?"
The crowd was becoming angry.
They
didn't want the picture of the son.
They wanted the more worthy
investments for their collections.
The auctioneer pounded the gavel.
"Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!"
A man sitting on the second row shouted.
"Now let's get on with the
collection!"
The auctioneer laid down his gavel. "I'm sorry, the auction is
over."
God gave his son 2,000 years ago to die on a cruel cross.
"What about the paintings?"
"I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction,
I was told
of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not
allowed to reveal that
stipulation until this time.
Only the painting of the son would be
auctioned.
Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire
estate,
Much
like the auctioneer, His message today is,
"The son, the son, who'll
take the son?"