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Charlie's Treasures |
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Please enjoy a few pagers from the book.
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A tiny brass bell chimed as Charlie pushed open the door to the shop. Clutched in the young boy’s hand was a worn leather pouch. Inside the shop it was dark, except for a banker’s light on top of an old roll-top desk at the very far end of the room. Charlie looked around and was certain he was alone. “Back here. By the light,” a voice called out to him.
The old man leaned forward and stroked his long white beard. “What do you have there?” He pointed to the bag Charlie was holding. “Treasures,” Charlie replied shyly. The old man studied the bag carefully. “Treasures?” “Yea,” said Charlie. The old man leaned forward to get a closer look. “Hmm. Treasures in that tiny bag?” Charlie held the bag tighter. “I’ve been collecting them all my life.” “You have?” The old man leaned back just a bit. “May I see them?” Charlie held on tight to the small bag and thought for a long time. These were his most valuable treasures. Finally, he nodded and untied the frayed strings that held the bag shut. He emptied the contents into his cupped hand. The old man’s eyes grew wide as he admired the treasures. “I have never seen such a marvelous collection of marbles before.” Charlie held his hands out so the old man could see his treasures better. “These aren’t just marbles. Each one is a special treasure.” The old man carefully inspected the collection of marbles in Charlie’s hand. “I see,” he said with great interest. “Can you tell me about them?” Charlie grinned from ear to ear with pride. “It will take a long time.” The old man smiled back. “For you, Charlie, I have all the time in the world.”
With his other hand, Charlie held the bag of marbles to his chest. “And do you want to know something else?” The old man smiled. “Sure,” Charlie nodded. “I have a treasure too?” “You do? Can I see it?” Charlie was very curious. “It would be an honor to share it with you.” The old man reached deep into a pocket over his heart. Carefully, he pulled something out and held it in his closed hand. Slowly he opened his hand. In the old man’s palm sat the most magnificent marble Charlie had ever seen. It glowed with a brilliance that almost hurt his eyes. He let Charlie look at it for a long time and then with a smile he said. “This is only one of the many treasures I have.” Charlie admired the marble. “What’s it called?” “Ah,” the old man said with great pride. “What makes all of my treasures special, is that each one is unique. This one is named…. ‘Charlie’.”
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