SAYING THANKS
It happened to us years when our second son was just a little kid.
We were having a stuffed chair redone and we received a penny post card from the small shop saying it would be ready to pick up. My wife Irma and with second son David did a pick-up ride to Grottoes, Virginia where the man had shop as part of his small home. He knew when we had arrived by the changes in the shadows his shop as we drove into his driveway.
We knew the old man was deaf; had been since infancy, and communication might be hindered a bit. When we arrived in his house he indicated for us to follow him into the next room and there we found a large white sheet covering what we assumed was our reconditioned. The old man more or less ignored my wife and I and motioned for the boy to help him remove the sheet. He made sure the boy had a firm grasp on the edge of the covering and ,in that special way they seemed to understand each other, he let the boy do the major effort at tugging the drape away to reveal our chair to us.
The cooperative tug was quick and there it was - a beautiful chair re-created. The broken leg was mended, the upholstery was bright and tough looking; the springs had e,obviously been replaced or repositioned. There was small paper pinned to the chair back and the old man unpinned it an indicated he boy was to take it to his mother. He did so without hesitation. His mother glanced at the paper bearing our name and the amount agreed upon for the chair repairs. She opened the bag she carried and handed the boy the folded bills when he returned to the craftsman standing beside our chair.
All of that happened rather quickly and was not quite ready for the next step which was “fixed” I must admit. Irma, was a teacher at The Virginia School for the Deaf and Blind, Staunton, Virginia, and she had prepared our son for the visit to the chair-maker's shop. He stood there admiring the chair then turned to the old man and signed: “Very pretty! Very Pretty! Thank you! Thank you very much!” He seemed to say it in italics and underlined.
I don't know signing but I realized what he had “said” by the almost tearfully happy pleasure instantly evident in the old man's eyes. He helped us load the chair on our truck and as we pulled away he waved “Goodbye” to us,it seemed, and he stood there and signed to our son: “Thank you! Thank You! Thank you!”
A.L.M. December 23, 2004 [c462wds]
