A father, a son, & a priceless painting

Dec 24, 2017 Countryman, Features / Columnists

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By Dennis Nichols

What is it about Christmas that makes it so distinctly different from other holidays and observances in the year? I mean even though many seem to have forgotten its main theme, the birth of Jesus, and are more intent on indulgence and revelry, there is still that intangible aura of warmth and selflessness that manages to permeate even the meanest of hearts and the dreariest of lives.
The most Scrooge-like amongst us somehow appear to understand intuitively that giving and sharing, even when there isn’t much to give and share, is a good and great thing.
So when there is no one with whom to share what you have, how much do material things count? This Christmas Eve I want to share with you a story (adapted) that may already be well-known among Christians and others who are spiritually inclined.
The characters are not necessarily believers in the religious sense of the word, and the story may be fanciful, but the moral should be enlightening.
What you cherish most in life can be wonderful; wealth can be transformative, but they can be taken from you, and you from them, in a figurative instant.
Just as the birth and life of Jesus overturned notions of what true happiness and prosperity are, this narrative does a similar flip, with a maybe impractical twist on the old ‘rags to riches’ cliché.
The setting, during the last century, is a small town in a country at war with another, located more than a thousand miles away. In the town lived a widowed man and his only son. Both had a love for art and exploration, and being fairly well off, they had travelled much and bought a large number of paintings including rare ones by some of the great masters – Da Vinci, Picasso, Van Gogh and the like; many worth thousands of dollars.
Often they would sit together, discussing and admiring their collection. In this way father and son grew very close; indeed much more than the admiration of priceless paintings was the love of the old man for his son, and he for his father. But their closeness was abruptly severed when the son was drafted to go and fight in the war.
For a while the father got letters from his son, until one day he received the dreaded news that his boy had been killed in battle. His heart broke. In the weeks and months that followed he felt his appetite for life diminishing. He found no solace in his wealth; in fact the beautiful works of art now seemed dull and cheap. The months passed by gloomily until the eve of Christmas when unexpectedly, someone knocked on his door. The stranger was a man of about his son’s age, and identified himself as a soldier who had fought in the same war in which his son died. He held a large package under his arm, and after introducing himself, spoke to the old man.
He said, “Sir, I knew your son well. He was a brave man, and had rescued me from certain death shortly before he was shot and killed. He used to tell me about you and your love for fine art. Now I am no artist, but I felt compelled to draw a portrait of your son in honour of his memory, and I would like you to have it.” The father offered to pay for the painting but the soldier was adamant; his son had saved his life and it was the least he could do.
The old man graciously accepted the present, and after the soldier left, he opened it. The portrait was obviously the work of an amateur, but the artist had captured the essence of his son’s personality in a way that immediately endeared it to him; so much so that he hung it in a place prominent over all the great works of art they had purchased, and drew from it a great deal of solace that Christmas.
A year later, the old man died. In the will that he left, it was decreed that all his paintings be auctioned off. The event was much publicised, and a number of wealthy art lovers turned up, including many belonging to the snobbish elite of that era. The soldier who had given the old man the portrait of his son was also there. He had fallen on hard times, but living not too far off, decided to attend the auction for he wanted to see what would happen to his painting. The auctioneer started with, you guessed it – the portrait of the man’s son.
There were a few sniggers from the buyers as he called for an offer of $100. Some of them rudely interrupted, suggesting that he put it aside and get on with the masterpieces. But the auctioneer persisted; the portrait of the son must be sold first. He dropped the offer to $50 then $20. At last someone at the back responded. “I will take it, but I only have $10.
The auctioneer hesitated. “Surely someone can do better than that for this cherished painting!” When no one else came forth, he intoned, “Going once, going twice … sold, for $10 to the young gentleman.” The buyer was (as you would have guessed again) the soldier who had painted the portrait.
As soon as the painting was sold, the auctioneer laid his gavel on the podium and declared, “That’s it folks; the auction is over.” The wealthy buyers gasped in astonishment. It couldn’t be; was it a joke? The auctioneer continued, “Yes, the auction is closed. The owner of the paintings stipulated in his will that the person who bought the first one, the portrait of his son, will be given all the others free of cost as part of his entire estate. I could not reveal it until now, and there is nothing I can do but adhere to the instructions. The one who gets the son, gets everything.”
The end.
The story is obviously analogous to the Christian concept of salvation and eternal life through accepting Jesus Christ as Saviour. Through Him, the bible declares, you receive all that God, His father, has decreed you should have. But what’s the ‘all’ or ‘everything’ the good book alludes to? It certainly isn’t material wealth, although there is some accommodation in life for both the boon and the burden of riches. For a father, a son, and an impoverished soldier, it was selflessness and love.
Merry Christmas everyone!

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