Friday, December 25, 2009

Christmas Eve Service

My mom, dad, and I went to Christmas Eve church service, which is always nice. Id like to remember a story that was told there so I'll share it on here.

.....

A long time ago lived a man who lived for artwork. He traveled all over the globe to bid on paintings and he had an entire house full of the most beautiful artwork to show off all his hard work- Monets, Picaso, and much much more. He also had a child, one beautiful son.

Now if you have children you know how exciting it is when your child falls in love with something you are passionate about, and that is exactly what happened here. The son started to become interested in art. So the dad took the son with him around the world when he went to bid on artwork. The son became increasingly interested in art, and soon began working with his dad on collecting.

At this point in time the man began to get old, as parents tend to do. He saw how great his son was at collecting art, and allowed him to take over the family business. He just glowed when his son came home with a proud new purchase.

And then the war came. The son was unfortunately drafted and the dad was as you can imagine, heart broken. Even parents today, when you hear that your son or daughter wishes to go serve their country you can't help but ask them to stay, you love them and want to protect them.

The son hugged his dad, and with sorrow in their souls, the son left for boot camp. After boot camp the son was sent off to join the war, staying very close to the battle. The dad did not hear from him for a very long time. He was afraid for his son but believed that he must have been in an area that made it hard for him to contact his father.

One day he got a terrifying phone call. The army was calling to let the man know that his son was MIA. That there had been a battle and he had gone missing. They promised to let the father know more as soon as they found out.

The man prayed and prayed and prayed asking the Lord to make sure his son was only that- missing. That nothing worse could happen to him, and that he would be found.

1 week later he got a dreaded knock on the door. As he opened the door to a man in uniform, he already knew what he had to say. The young man asked if he could come in. As the old man led him in he asked if he should sit down and the young man confirmed it. The young man said, "Sir I regret to inform you that you son has past away. I was a good friend of him through boot camp and on to battle. He was passionate and very loyal- he spoke very highly of you often. I am incredibly sorry for your loss but I wanted to let you know how he died. Your son was killed while trying to get a fellow fallen soldier who was suffering from gun shot to the paramedic. However, this was not the only time he has done this- because of your son 6 soldiers lives have been saved. He is without a doubt a hero, and I feel so lucky to have known him."

The old man was speechless. Every time he tried to speak nothing would come out- but his eyes filled with tears as he knew he would no longer see his son, his best friend.

The young man continued as he pulled something out of an envelope, "Now, I am no artist, but I do like to draw. I sketched this picture of your son about a week before he passed."

The old man took the picture and studied it. He could see his son in the picture, although it was no Monet. And then he realized, this would be the last picture of his son. He told the young man, "Thank you for bringing this, I will hang it above the fireplace where I can see him always."

As he walked the young man out the door they were silent, but they shared the bond of the son and for both of them that was enough.

The old man kept his promise and put up the drawing of his son above the fireplace. However, he could not stand to keep the rest of the artwork up in the house, as it brought up sad memories of their trips together and their shared passion for art.

1 year later the old man followed behind his son and passed away.

The art community was ecstatic as his will dictated that the artwork be sold in an auction. Many people were looking to complete various collections, museums were looking for additional pieces, and art fanatics were excited at the chance to take a bid on the famous artwork.

People flew in from across the United States and from all over the world to place various bids on the years of collected work.

As in any traditional auction setting everyone was anxious- nervous and sweating- looking around the room at the competition and contemplating which works would be the hardest to obtain. The auctioneer came up onto the stage and the room fell silent with anticipation. "We will start the auction now, this is the first piece up for sale." And he uncovered the framed drawing of his son that the young man brought with him to deliver the unfortunate news.

The room was initially silent, then began whispers and conversations followed by an outcry, "what is this all about?" The auctioneer replied, "According to the will, this must be the first painting sold," followed by more whispers. More shouts included "Are you kidding?," "Is this a joke?"

The auctioneer finally began the auction- "The first piece will start the bidding at 100$, do I have 100$?" The room fell silent- everyone was just waiting for the piece to be sold so the "real" auction could begin. "Do I have 100$?"

Sitting in the very back was a close friend of the old man, who missed the old man and his son very much. He was not there to purchase, as he was a very poor man, he was only there in memory of his friend that had passed. But he shouted, "I can offer 20$, for that is all that I have."

Everyone else in the audience was silent, as they were still anxious for the painting to be sold so the more popular paintings would be brought out. The auctioneer replied with, "If no one has any offers, 20$, 20$, do I have 25$? 25$, 25$ is their a bid? Going once, going twice, sold to the old man in the back for 20$.

Now that the first drawing was sold, the mood began to return in the audience- nervous, sweating, anxious. But then something unexpected happened- the auctioneer began to leave the stage. People cried out- "Where are you going? What about the other pieces?"

The auctioneer replied, "I am sorry, but we are finished here. In the will it was clearly stated that who ever purchased the drawing of the son would receive the old mans entire collection of artwork. For as he wrote in his will, "Whoever has the Son, will have it all."


Merry Christmas.

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