Words from a Sunday Morning...

Heard this story in Sacrament meeting this Sunday:

A wealthy man and his only son loved to spend time together. They loved traveling and while on their journeys began to collect famous paintings. They were lucky enough to have Rembrandts, Monets, Vermeers, and others in their collection. They were surrounded by the beauty of the art they both loved.

The boy grew up and was one day called to serve in the Vietnam war. He went off to fight in this war to protect his world from the threat of communism. One day the man received word that his only son had been killed rescuing fellow soldiers. The father's grief overwhelmed him with it's strength. A few months after his son's death, his doorbell rang. As he answered the door, there stood on his doorstep a young man with a painting. He introduced himself as one of the soldiers his son has given his life to save. He offered the man the painting he had created for him. It was a picture of his son. The father thanked the young man for the beautiful painting and hung the painting in the place of honor above his fireplace.

The years passed and the father grew old and frail. After his death, all his art was to be auctioned as there was no heir to inherit. A famous auction hall was slated to sell the collection and many rich art collectors came to try and purchase some of the beautiful paintings. As they gathered, anxiously waiting for the sale to begin, there was palpable anticipation. As the auctioneer presented the first painting, it was the painting called The Son, the one given to the father after his son's death. It was painted by the unknown soldier and none of the rich collectors were interested. There were no bids on the painting. The auctioneer tried repeatedly to get a bid, any bid, on the painting. "Who will buy the painting of The Son?" "Anyone?" "Will anyone give me ten dollars for this painting of The Son?" It seemed none of the rich collectors were interested in the father's favorite painting. Finally from the back of the room there was a bid, a voice spoke firmly, "Ten dollars." It was the father's old gardener. He had worked for the family faithfully for many years and had fond memories of the father and son. He was retired now and could only afford to bid the small amount of ten dollars. The auctioneer called out, "SOLD", handed the picture to the cashier to collect the ten dollars and began to walk away from the podium. Pandimonium erupted as the other buyers began to call for the real auction to begin. "Where is the good stuff?!" "Bring out the masters now!" "We came to buy REAL art!!"

The auctioneer returned to the podium and explained to the audience, "I'm sorry. There was a stipulation in the will that was to remain unrevealed until this moment. You see, the father's will stated that the son's portrait be sold first and whoever bought it would inherit the whole estate."

Let us not forget our Father in Heaven's greatest gift this holiday season. Let us not reject His Son. 

copyright Dennis Edward Simon