Charles walked into the museum slowly, shuffling with his polished hardwood cane. He looked around and frowned.
Kids? He thought in disgust, looking at a family with three young children. Who on earth brings kids to an art museum!? Those inconsiderate, selfish people. They’ll ruin it for the rest of us!
Charles, a longtime fan of the arts, (more accurately, a professional fan of the arts), knew that only the most refined, dignified, educated person could enjoy them. Having two PhD’s on the subject, he knew what art was. He knew how to appreciate it. Children could never understand it. If Charles had his way, no child would ever be allowed in an art museum. In fact, several years ago he petitioned to have a large “Adults only, 18+” sign posted on the front of the museum. That was until he learned the hard way what kind of “art” is typically shown behind such signs. People really disgusted him sometimes.
“Hello sir, would you like to enter the museum? Tickets are eight dollars.” Said an overly friendly woman at the front desk. Charles just glared at her. Where was the usual woman who worked here? Why didn’t anyone tell this new person who he was? Apparently, everyone was trying to inconvenience him today.
“I’m a distinguished member” Charles grumbled at her, pulling out his museum platinum membership card. “You should really know who I am, I can’t believe they don’t have you memorize the member list. In fact, I used to work in this very same museum decades ago, before you were even born. I knew every single member by name back then. We used to have respect for the most educated and refined members of society. Times have surely changed.”
The woman at the desk listened politely. “Well, I’m glad to have one of our members visiting today. Enjoy your visit, Mr. Charles.” She smiled and gestured into the rest of the building.
That smart alec woman, thinking she can win me over just by reading the name on my card, Charles thought as he walked into the main foyer. And it’s not Mr., it’s Dr., thank you very much!
Continuing through the room, he made sure to walk in a large arc around the family with kids. One of them was picking their nose, and another one was playing a game on some electronic doohickey.
“I can’t believe you’d bring such a useless distraction to a museum.” he muttered under his breath. If someone had heard him, they might have thought he was talking about the iPhone the kid was playing on.
He was talking about the child.
As Charles continued to work his way through the museum, his judgments of the other patrons were as consistent and harsh as the tap-tap-tapping of his cane on the polished floor. That man is spending far too much time looking at that painting, he needs to give others a chance to see it. He thought after passing someone who was very focused on a particular piece of art.
That man isn’t even taking the time to appreciate anything, why did he waste his time coming here? He thought about another gentleman pleasantly walking by. A certain woman was too sloppy, a young couple was too touchy feely, and the several other kids he saw were surely all delinquents.
When Charles finally got around to looking at the actual art, his thoughts were intelligent and academic, something you might find in a textbook. In some cases, he was actually thinking about what he wrote in the couple of textbooks he had published on the topic. He knew what good art was, he knew how to look at it, and he knew how to think about it, unlike all the disgraceful plebeians they let in this place.
As Charles reached a back corner of the museum, he saw an elderly woman sitting on a bench, smiling as she looked at the painting across from her.
She saw Charles and gave him a wave. “Hello! Come sit with me for a moment, won’t you! I’d love to have someone to enjoy this painting with.” she said warmly. Although not necessarily pleased with the invitation, Charles saw no excuse to not join her, so he walked over and sat down next to her.
“I’m Dawn” The woman said, reaching out her hand for a handshake.
“It’s nice to meet you, Dawn.” Charles said, shaking her hand. “My name is Charles.”
“Oh, it’s so great to meet you!” Dawn replied. Then, looking back towards the painting, she said, “Isn’t that just a beautiful one?”
Charles didn’t even have to look to know which painting it was, he’d been there enough times to know. But he glanced over at it anyways and saw the familiar Starry Night.
“It’s not Van Gogh’s best work.” Charles said, quickly analyzing the art. “Although it’s arguably his most famous.”
“I love it.” Dawn said, smiling at it again. “Look at all the lights on in the windows of all the little houses. I like to imagine I can see all the little families in each one.” She started pointing at the different houses. “In that one there’s a family with lots of little kids getting ready for bed. The dad is helping the two oldest finish up their homework for tomorrow, and the mom is singing a lullaby to the two youngest. They’re trying their best to stay awake, but they’re just too tired to resist the sleepiness of their mother’s song. Oh, I can just see their cute little yawns as they fall asleep!”
Charles looked at Dawn curiously. What was the woman going on about? There was nothing in the painting to suggest such a thing. He was about to tell her so, but she continued before he could cut in.
“And in that house is a newlywed couple who just bought their first home. They don’t have much money or furniture, but they have each other, and that’s all they need. They’re dancing together in the kitchen to the song that played on the radio the day they first met.
“In that house is a grandmother with one of her little granddaughters who came to stay the night. The child was supposed to be in bed an hour ago, but the grandma is too fun for such rules! They’re laughing as they make cookies, and the grandma lets the young girl eat as many as she wants. She lets her snack on the cookie dough too, something her mom would never allow. But tonight, it’s their little secret. What mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
Charles had been watching Dawn the whole time she was talking. She was ignorant of the real meaning of that painting, but she didn’t care one bit. She loved it anyway. Although there was something oddly enjoyable about listening to her describe the little scenes, Charles felt he must correct her.
“Dawn, you have the painting all wrong.” Charles said. “I’ve read many scholarly papers on this piece. In fact, I’ve even written a few myself. Nowhere have I ever seen anything that would suggest such bizarre scenes taking place in the houses.”
Dawn smiled at him. “You know a lot about these paintings, don’t you?”
Charles nodded. “Yes, I do. If you would like, I’d be happy to tell you the actual meanings and symbols of this piece.”
Dawn chuckled at that. “Charles, art isn’t supposed to be studied. It’s meant to be enjoyed! So don’t tell me what it means. Look at the painting and tell me how it makes you feel!” She then gently nudged Charles’ head to look back towards the painting.
He didn’t know why, but he decided to play along with Dawn’s game, insulting as her comments were to his profession. He looked at the painting and thought, What do I feel? Hmm. I feel like this painting gets more attention than it deserves. I feel like the colors are too extreme, and the style is too loose. I feel like if there were actually little people in those houses, they should get to bed soon and turn off the lights, because they’re probably racking up a large electrical bill.
It was as if Dawn could read his thoughts. She said, “Charles, turn off your analytical brain. Turn on your inner child. What do you feel?”
Charles grumbled and then tried again. He stared at the painting for several minutes in silence, but try as he might, he didn’t feel anything. He thought and he thought and he thought, but he didn’t feel.
He looked back towards Dawn. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel anything.”
“Then let me help you.” She replied. Turning his head to look at the painting again, she said “I feel joy when I look at the beautiful stars in the sky. I feel love for God when I look at His chapel, reaching up towards His magnificent creations. I feel tired yet happy when I look at the house with the parents trying to get their kids to bed. I feel scared and excited and adventurous when I look at the house of the young couple. And I feel fun and wild when I look at the grandmother baking with her granddaughter. Although I feel a heavy sense of loss at that fact that her husband has been dead for 15 years, and she’ll be lonely again tomorrow when the granddaughter goes back home.”
Dawn’s eyes teared up when she said the last part, and something clicked in Charles’ head. Dawn was the newly married woman. She was the mother of four. And she is the grandmother who loves her grandchildren, but who’s terribly lonely in that house by herself.
Charles had always been by himself. He had never taken the time to think about how it felt though, he was always much too busy with work. Now, though, he looked at the painting again. And this time, he started to feel.
He felt the deep sadness in the blue of the sky and the hills. He felt pockets of joy and love in the little lights coming from all the little houses. He felt a sense of gratitude for the life he’d been able to live, spending every day doing what he loved. He felt a sense of loss as he realized his academic goals had made him lose sight of the powerful emotions art had first instilled in him as a young boy, emotions that fostered his first love for art. He felt a sense of community with his fellow academics, and a sense of loneliness in his current state. Looking at the stars, he felt a sense of wonder and hope, wonder that Dawn could open up his heart like this again, and hope that the best was still yet to come.
Tears started to stream down his face. Dawn grabbed his hand in hers, a silent understanding passing between them. Quietly, she whispered “There you go Charles. You finally turned off your brain and you turned on your heart.”
They sat there for a while longer, both of them feeling powerful emotions together. Eventually, Dawn let go of his hand and stood up. “It was nice to meet you, Charles. I have a granddaughter coming over tonight, and I don’t want to be late.” She paused for a moment, and then gave Charles a sad smile. “Goodbye, Charles. Thanks for enjoying this moment with me” She then turned and walked away.
Charles sat there in stunned silence for a moment. This woman had opened a door in his heart he had forgotten was there. She had created more life in this one afternoon than he’d had in his last 50 years of living. And now she was walking away, to leave forever! Although only an hour ago Charles would have scolded someone for yelling in a museum, now he couldn’t hold himself back.
“Dawn, wait!”
Six months later, Charles and Dawn walked into the museum together. Charles’ walk was still shuffled, and Dawn supported him with his arm in hers. After a friendly conversation with the woman at the desk, and funny faces at some kids in the lobby, Dawn and Charles made their way back to their favorite painting, Starry Night.
“Those kids are so cute.” Charles said, as they took a seat on the same bench where they met. “They remind me of your grandkids.”
“Our grandkids now, Hunny.” Dawn said with a smile, lovingly rubbing Charles’ new wedding ring.
Charles smiled back at that, and they both turned to look at the painting across from them, Dawn resting her head on Charles’ shoulder.
“Did I ever tell you who’s in that last house?” Dawn said, pointing to a house at the side of the town.
“I don’t think so.” Charles responded. “Tell me all about them.”
“Well,” said Dawn, holding Charles’ hand tightly in hers. “That’s where a darling elderly couple lives. The wife is never lonely anymore, and the husband has found joy once again in his life. They love each other very much, and they enjoy the little things in life every day together on their wonderful journey to happily ever after.”
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9 comments
She cracked his callous heart with kindness. Good job, it's a very moving story. I saw I read all your stories accept this one. A little late, but still good.
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Thank you so much! I’m glad you went back and read it, it’s one of my favorites. I believe you have several older stories I haven’t read either, I should go check them out soon.
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Well, that would be awesome, but I warn you, some don't have Lady Nimmo. lol
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Haha, yeah, I think I’ve already read all your stories with Lady Nimmo. I’m sure your other stories are great too though, even if they don’t have quite as many stumpers as I prefer 😁
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Lovely heartwarming story. Yes, I agree. It's how they make you feel. I wrote my one to this prompt as well. Different of course. As promised, I'm reading a latest and an older one each time.
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Thank you so much for the kind comment! This is one of my favorites that I've written so far, so I'm glad you went back and read it! I'm hoping to go back and read some more of yours too, but I never seem to have as much time to read and write as I'd like, haha.
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Yes, it's hard to find the time. Life goes on.
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Oh my !! McKade, I really enjoyed this one. It just flowed so easily, so deftly. I've always said that art should, first and foremost, make you feel, and I'm glad Charles rediscovered that. Splendid descriptions and lovely imagery. Amazing work !
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Thank you so much! This was my first time trying to write something romantic, so I wasn't sure how it would go. I'm so glad you liked it! 😁
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