THE PAINTING 0 In the village where I grew up, everyone knew an old man 00 who spent all of his time with painting. People who lived in the village used to be admire his work and he often gave paintings to friends of his. If they offered him money, he would never take it because he said he painted for a pleasure. He gave one of the paintings to my father, who actually wasn't very interested in art. One day when I was playing, I came across from it in the bin outside our house. I have hid it in our garage where my father couldn't find it because I really would liked it, and then I forgot all about it. Since years later I found it again. By that time the old man had been died and people had started to recognise his paintings as great works of art. They were now worth a lot of money. An art gallery made me an offer of ￡5,000 for this painting and I nearly sold it, but then I decided not to do. When I look at the painting held hanging on the wall of my sitting-room, it reminds to me of my childhood, and of the man who could have been so much rich but didn't really want to make money. (80)