The Window and the Humble Man

There was once a man who had nearly nothing; only the clothes on his back and a simple home and just enough to eat.

One day he felt in his heart that if he should have very little, he would assure that what he did have would be lovely, and that he would see the world around him as such as well. He would add value to all he saw, all the things that belonged to others, by decorating the window of his home.

So he set to work. He prepared but the outside and the inside of the window. He labored to fashion a simple flower box, suspended from the outside of the window, in which he grew a host of lovely flowers, carefully arranged by color and height so as to create the perfect effect.

Inside, he painted around the window. He couldn’t afford to pain the entire room, but just enough around the window would suffice. He then painted curtain rods the color of platinum, and hung curtains, draperies and bits of plastic ivy. He was amazed not only by his own creativity and flare for decoration, but also by the endless variety of things people carelessly threw out or that would end up at the Salvation Army.

He dressed the window daily, for years, to assure that the view would ever be perfected. He even acquired a magnificent chair, given away for free locally from a small Facebook community local to him! It took some effort to spruce it up, but when finished, made a perfect addition to the beauty he was adding to his world! It was over time set to the perfect height, the perfect angle, the perfect color, with the perfect accessories on the arms and back of the chair. A small table would hold his drink, usually coffee, in a carefully selected mug of antiquity, just to perfect the mood for the scene.

Why, he even took to wearing special garments, but only when he sat in the chair to look through the window, sipping at steaming hot coffee, all to watch the world around him through his magnificent window. It was a patina of perfection, a facade, but the overall portrait of the creation made everything he saw beyond that window look ever so much more amazing, ever so much more lovely and blessed. It was a living sculpture and a thing through which all other things could be admired. No matter how cold, retched, warm or beautiful, this window made it all fit into the same vision. It brought unity to all things, ugly and cruel, kind and serene alike!

His efforts, his window, his chair, his garments, his special attention to detail, all contributed to making everyone and everything within the field of his view so much more perfect than had he not been there to see things as he had designed.

Everything made the same sort of sense to him, then. Everything fit into his box. Every hungry child, every hooker, every black eye, every brand new car, every pimp, every heroin junkie, every lawyer, every briefcase, every parcel and every mote all framed by the same magnificent window, made cozy and warm by just the right chair, blend of coffee, coffee mug unwashed for just the right progress of brew-scale, the perfect complimentary throw rug for the feet, the perfect pajamas and comfortable overcoat, the right look upon the face of the man seated and joyously and painstakingly missing not one jot or tittle, not one flotsam or jetsam jettisoned or floated, totaled or judiciously approved.

Finally, it all made the same sort of sense to the man. The rest would be a matter of maintenance as he lived his life for the sake of others. They might never know how much more value had been added to their lives, nor their plight given more reason and cause by the humble purveyor secured within that humble domicile.

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