Once upon a time, a poor man, when his family’s estate was settled, found that he had been bequeathed a chair that once belonged to his great-grandfather who was a gifted and popular artist. Now, this wasn’t just any chair. It was old, true, but that chair had character. It was made of the finest wood. It was solidly built, put together by master craftsmen who knew what they were doing. It was a beautiful chair, only thing was, it wasn’t perfect. It had a few flaws; it was marred here and there. But when the sun shone on the hand-rubbed finish, it glowed as if it were lit by an inner fire.
The artist had sat in this chair to paint some of his greatest works. A few drops of paint spattered the chair. Near the base of one foot were tooth marks where the artist’s beloved dog, Caesar, had sharpened his puppy teeth. A fire had damaged the artist’s home at one point and the chair bore a dark scar on its back, a scorch mark.
The artist’s heir who badly needed money, decided he would take the chair to a friend of his, a trusted friend who was the mayor of his town. The mayor should know the chair’s value, right? He was elected by the people, respected, and he looked out for the good of the people of the town. The mayor always knew about everything and he would tell him what the chair was worth. So, to the mayor went the poor man with his chair.
“Oh, no,” the mayor said as he looked at the chair. “This piece of furniture could be fine if it were repaired. Those teeth marks, the paint spatters, the burn mark can be sanded out. The chair can be re-finished and made as good as new. Why, as it is, it is an insult to artists and also to furniture makers. And, just think of the people who own some of the artist’s paintings! Why, they would be offended to think the artist once sat in such a run-down seat as this. I’ll fix it for you and then you can take it to an antique dealer.”
Which is what he did. The poor man waited for the dealer’s decision, thinking that now the chair looked perfect, surely it would bring a good sum. but the expert in antiques sadly shook his head.
“It’s just like all the other chairs,” the professional said. “If you had left it with the historical markings, it would have been priceless. But in trying to perfect it, you ruined the character of the chair. The mayor gave you poor advice.”
So the poor man took his chair and returned home, sadder and wiser, but just as poor as he had been before.
Moral: The poor man was betrayed by an elected official and in trying to please everyone, he ruined a priceless piece of history. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
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