Monday, July 9, 2012

Mag 125 7/8/12 Harkening Back.

                                                      Chilmark Hay, 1951 by Thomas Hart Benton

                                          Monte Sen stood in front of the painting, leaning hard
                              with both hands on his cane. His grandson looked up into his face
                              " What are you thinking about Gran pa ?"
                                         Monte Sen looked down over his half glasses, "Just
                             remembering a risk I took as a young man; on unclaimed freight."
                                         He could tell by the youngsters eager expression
                             that he wanted to hear more.
                                        " Once long ago- 1917 or so,"  I was working the docks
                            He pointed a finger over the boys shoulder, " Four wooden crates
                           sat for days- and we had to work around them." He shook his head.
                            "After a certain time I went and made an offer on them; Mr. Franks
                            gave the OK."
                                       " What was in them ?" His grandson burst out.
                                       Monte Sen smiled. "After carting them two streets over,
                           into the alley behind the apartment your Grand mother and I
                           lived in at the time- it was getting dark." 
                                       His Grandson eyes were wide.
                                    " Your Grand mother was not pleased with me for spending
                          money we didn't have. -Speculating - I think she called it."
                                       "What's that mean ?"
                                      " Gambling- a sin to some."
                            His grandson's jaw dropped.
                                     " She made me sleep outside and guard them."
                                     The boy covered his mouth to keep from laughing.
                           " The next day I finally opened them-. A painting, similar to this
                          one, was carefully wrapped and set on top of the smallest box."
                                     " Where is it Gran pa ?"
                                     " It hung in our shop for many years, behind the register.
                           Then one day a lady came in with the same last name as the artist.
                           I did not feel right refusing her- It probably was her Father's crate.
                                      The boy's eyebrows couldn't have gone any higher." Was he
                            famous ?"
                                      "No," Monty Sen. smiled. " It was from their homeland, a
                           comforting piece of family memorabilia."



Gail said...

What a deligtful srory! Great job.

We have over a hundred acres but only a few cattle. I had horses but donated them to a program for troubled youth. Gosh, I miss my horses and hope one day to renew that dream with another horse.

We only have chickens, dogs, fish, cats, and cattle.

Hubby is very sick and we have no hay so the cattle may soon be a thing of the past.

Have a wonderful day.

Mama Zen said...

Very creative!

Brian Miller said...

aww i love how things work out like was a blessing for him for a while but i would have had a hard time turning it over to her as well...a cool bit of serendipity

Brian Miller said...

synchronicity is the word i think i wa looking for there...

Steve E said...

How about "SERENDICITY"?--grin!

Beautiul story
Beautifully told.

However...c'mon, c'mon, what was in the OTHER boxes? See? "Inquiring (nosey) minds want to know!!"

Sue said...

A lovely little tale. Thanks.


Helen said...

Into every life ... if only :)

G-Man said...

Friday 13th
FF55 returns
Hope to see you!!

Tess Kincaid said...

A delightful risk...

Jinksy said...

Not quite speculate to accumulate, though, eh? :)