A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the pups and set about nailing it to a post on the edge
of his yard. As he was driving the last
nail into the post, he felt a tug on his
overalls. He looked down into the eyes
of a little boy.
"Mister," he said, "I want to buy one
of your puppies."
"Well," said the farmer, as he rubbed the
sweat off the back of his neck, "these puppies come from fine parents and
cost a good deal of money."
The boy dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching
deep into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the
farmer.
"I've got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to
take a look?"
"Sure," said the farmer. And with that he
let out a whistle. "Here, Dolly!"
he called.
Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly,
followed by four little balls of fur. The little boy pressed his face against the chain link
fence. His eyes danced with delight. As the dogs made their way to the fence,
the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse. Slowly
another little ball appeared, this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it
slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner the little pup began hobbling toward the
others, doing its best to catch up.
"I want that one," the little boy said,
pointing to the runt.
The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said,
"Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play
with you like these other dogs would."
With that the little boy stepped back from the fence,
reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers. In doing so he
revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a
specially made shoe.
Looking back up at the farmer he said, "You see,
Sir, I don't run too well myself, and he will need someone who
understands."
With tears in his eyes,
the farmer reached down and picked up the little pup. Holding it carefully he
handed it to the little boy.
"How much?"
asked the little boy.
"No charge,"
answered the farmer, "there's no charge for love."
*****
Another, slightly different version:
A store owner was
tacking a sign above his door that read 'Puppies for Sale.' These signs had a
weird way of attracting children. And sure enough, a little boy appeared at the
sign.
"How much are you
going to sell those puppies for?" he asked.
The store owner replied
"Anywhere from $30-$50."
The little boy reached
into his pocket and pulled out some change. "I have $2.37, can I have a
look at them?"
The store owner smiled
and whistled and out of the kennel came Lady, who ran down the aisle of his
store followed by five teeny, tiny balls of fur. One puppy was lagging
considerably behind.
Immediately the little
boy singled out the lagging, limping puppy and said "What's wrong with
that little dog?"
The man explained that
when the puppy was born, the vet had said that it had no hip socket and would
limp for the rest of its life.
The little boy got
really excited and said "That's the puppy I want to buy!"
The man replied
"No, you don't want to buy that little dog. If you really want him, I'll
give him to you."
The little boy got quite
upset. He looked straight into the man's eyes, pointing his finger and said,
"I don't want you to give him to me. He is worth every bit as much as the
other dogs and I'll pay the full price. In fact, I'll give you $2.37 now and 50
cents every month until I have him paid for."
The man countered,
"You really don't want to buy this puppy. He is never going to be able to
run, jump and play like other puppies!"
To this the little boy
reached down and rolled up his pant leg to reveal a badly twisted, crippled
left leg supported by a big metal brace. He looked up at the man and said,
"Well, I don't run so well myself, and the little puppy will need someone
who understands."
In life, it doesn’t
matter who you are, but whether someone appreciates you for what you are,
accepts you and loves you unconditionally.
A real friend is one who
walks in when the rest of the world walks away.
(Dan Clark, from
"Chicken Soup for the Soul", Copyright 2000 Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen)
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