This is a story of a rich man who had a huge art gallery, and he had a terrific son. And the son would go into the streets, and one day he befriended a beggar. And he started to see this beggar regularly, and he’d describe his father’s big home and the paintings and all that his father did in business, and his family. And the beggar really liked this young man.
But, one day the young man stopped coming. Two days, three days… And the beggar found out that his friend had died suddenly. So he went and got himself some paper and some crayons, and he drew a portrait of that young man. And he went to that home of the rich man and gave it to the watchman outside and said, “Would you please give it to the man because his son was very good to me. And I’ve drawn his portrait because I hear he has an art gallery in that house.”
The watchman looked at it, rather bemused by it, and said, “Alright, okay, okay,” and sent him away. But, he thought this was quite a gesture. So he waited for the right moment when the rich man was driving out in his car one day he said to him, “You know, a beggar came here and gave this because he painted this as a portrait of your son.” The rich man took it. Nothing was heard.
Some years go by and the beggar finds out that the rich man had passed away and that they were going to auction his art gallery. So he decided to get some nice-looking clothes to see if he could squeeze in. He did. And he walked through the hall to see if the boy’s portrait was hanging with all of the grand masters, and sure enough it was there. And the auctioneer came and all these aficionados were there: wonderful little lenses and all, studying all of this art. And then the gavel was pounded, and the auctioneer announced the beginning of the sale. And everybody said, “yea, yea, good, good.” The auctioneer explained, “There is one condition in the rich man’s will. The rich man said this portrait of his son is the first one to be auctioned.” The crowd of potential buyers moaned and groaned. Nobody bid on it. The beggar put his hand into his pocket and got a few coins and bid what he had. No one counter-offered, and the auctioneer pounded his gavel. “Sold!”
The beggar picked up his painting. As he’s walking away, the auctioneer again pounds his gavel. “There was a second condition,” the auctioneer announced. “In the will it states that whoever bids on the portrait of his son gets the whole art gallery.”
Ladies and gentlemen, when you get the Son, you get all of the components of meaning in life.