

Paul looked up as a middle- aged man approached the shelf. He
rubbed his hands all over the shelves and spindles, and tipped it back and
forth; rapped it with his knuckles and stood back and admired it.
“I’ll offer you $200 for it,” he said.
“Fine, but we’re taking offers today. Here’s a card for
your offer, name, and phone number. We’ll call tomorrow if we accept.”
As the man was writing his information down, he said,
“You have a lovely shelf here, I hope you call me!.”
Paul’s disappointment was noticeable.
“You know, Paul, I’m beginning to appreciate this shelf
of Grandma’s also,” said dad.
When the man left, Paul took only faint encouragement from that remark.
He felt like he was on a sinking ship.
As the day went on, three more offers came in.
Paul noticed his mother’s excitement. She was finally going to get rid
of that cumbersome shelf.
That evening after Paul crawled into bed, his
mother came into to say goodnight. As she bent down to cover him up ,
he looked up at her with teary eyes.
“Honey, what’s the matter?” she asked.
“I can’t stop thinking about Grandma” said Paul. “Mom, please don’t sell
Grandma’s shelf. I’ll pay you for the shelf. I can give you my
birthday money as a down payment, and I promise to work the rest off.”
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