When I first met George , I was in my early 30s , seeking a creative outlet( 出路 ) unrelated to boring housework and raising little ones.My children , then aged three and five , were just entering kindergarten and school life.At 65 , George had recently retired and was seeking a rewarding hobby.For both of us , painting was “ it ” and we met at a local painting class.Thus began a friendship that was to last until the day he died. George arrived in Australia as an immigrant from Britain with his wife and two children.He worked hard , played hard , and had an opinion about everything.He adored his wife , his family , and his friends.A slim and energetic man , George took pride in his fitness and walked three kilometres every day. As the only male in a painting class full of women , George ruled the roost and we were his hens.He adored his singular role and looked after his brood( 一窝雏鸡 ) with the same attention he gave to everything. He took to painting with great passion( 热情 ) , even transforming the spare bedroom into a studio.A studio ! His painting equipment was comprehensive.Ever practical , George housed many of these items in a red metal tool box. After the completion of the course , we still kept in touch.One day when George was about 80 years old , he asked me to come to his house.George explained that he was giving up painting because of his illness and he gave away all his “ stuff ” to me. I still use much of his equipment today.The most treasured thing is the red tool box.The original shop sticker is still firmly in place although the price has long since worn off.But that ’ s all right because to my mind friendship is beyond price.