“This I give to you,” said the old man in labored English as he kneeled beside the small boy to show him what he cradled in his calloused hands. “It thousands years old … may be toy of Pharaoh boy … like you, American boy!”
What the boy saw first was a smile on the old man’s face and then the wink of his eye. Then he cast his eyes down toward the old man’s hands and saw a small crudely carved stone camel. He took it with a whispered “Thank You.”
What the father saw was an act of generosity not expected following an hour of animated negotiations over the price of a large Egyptian carpet. After many shakings of heads over many cups of spiced tea, he and the vendor had finally reached an agreement, then bowed slightly to each other with hands pressed against their hearts in a traditional Egyptian sealing of the sale.
All the while from the corner of his eye, the father observed his son entertain himself by climbing high atop a nearby pile of carpets in the cavernous shop, and with an imaginary sword battling imaginary enemies threatening his makeshift mountain fortress.
Years later the boy, a man now with his own son, was sorting through boxes of collectibles from his deceased parents’ diplomatic travels when he saw it, the stone camel. What his father had saved long after he had lost interest, now rekindled memories of a dimly lit Egyptian shop, the aroma of hemp carpets, and the face of the old man.
The father called to his son and sat him down. “This I give to you,” he said, and told the boy about the far-away shop with mountains of carpets and the old vendor who gave him the stone camel which maybe, just maybe, had been the toy of a Pharaoh’s son thousands of years ago.
And the father smiled at his son and winked. ###
A lovely story.
Thanks :)