"The Parable of the Painter"

Once there was a girl who loved painting horses. Every day she would gather up her paints, brushes and a new canvas then hike down to the stables next door. She was always sure to bring carrots with her to entice the horses in coming closer so she could paint the beautiful, subtle details in their faces and manes. She'd spend hours in the sun capturing the perfect glance before heading home to dinner.

Her parents, never caring much for art or the stables, didn't understand her obsession with painting or horses. They were poor, and instead used their words over a modest dinner of chicken and rice to complain about the smell from the pastures and point out the flaws they saw in the girl's paintings. "You're certainly no Rembrandt," her father would chuckle as he selfishly took the last chicken breast for himself. His criticisms only fueled the girl's desire to paint.

She woke up earlier than usual the next day to capture her favorite horse in the sunrise—a beautiful white dapple named Casper, who was always the first to nuzzle his nose in her hand affectionately while gently nibbling his carrots. As she sat on the opposite side of the fence painting Casper in the gorgeous early morning rays, she noticed the owner of the stable lunging another horse nearby. The owner noticed the girl too, so she mounted her steed and rode over. Worried she might be trespassing, the girl quickly began to pack up her paints and brushes, but she wasn't fast enough. The owner dismounted and walked up to the fence by the girl. "Hi, I'm Madeline, what's your name?"

"L, L, Lily," the girl responded. Trying to conceal her nerves.
"What are you working on there Lily?"
"Oh nothing, just a stupid painting."
"Can I see?"
"Uh, sure."

Lily tentatively turned the half-finished painting toward Madeline. "I haven't gotten to the pasture yet, and the sunrise still needs..."

"It's beautiful," Madeline said, cutting her off with the genuine compliment. "Is this your first one?"

Lily had painted dozens by this point, 27 to be exact, but she was scared Madeline would take her for a stalker if she told the truth. "No, I've painted a few."

"Bring them over to the stable tonight. I'd love to see them."

A smile snuck out of Lily's face as Madeline rode back with Casper following closely behind. When she got back to the house, she began going through all her paintings looking for just the right ones. She decided seven was the perfect number, and she wrapped them up carefully in the old newspapers her father never threw out.

"Dinner time!" her mothered yelled as the familiar smell of overcooked chicken wafted into her room.

"I'm eating at a friend's," Lily chimed back as she scurried out the door, fumbling with her paintings hoping no one would notice.

She arrived at the stables and used the giant iron horsehead knocker to announce her presence. She'd never actually been inside. Madeline opened the door revealing a giant, wood-paneled hallway lined with other paintings and statues of horses. She stared in awe as Madeline guided her along toward to the kitchen. "I was just about to sit down for dinner, would you like some?"

The smell of the perfectly cooked filets intoxicated her as she agreed to the offer. Her parents would have been mortified, having trained her to never accept such lavish gifts. They were proud of their poverty and skeptical of those with wealth.

One by one, Madeline asked to see the paintings Lily had brought. As they ate and drank she kept asking about her style and inspiration. It was the most delightful night of Lily's life. While finishing off a pint of ice cream, Madeline made Lily an offer she couldn't refuse.

"I have an idea. Why don't you leave these paintings here, and tomorrow bring over any others you have and your painting supplies as well. I have a room near the stables where all the riders pass through. They'd love to see someone painting their pride and joys. You might even sell one or two."

This could be her ticket out Lily thought to herself. It was a dream come true. She'd have access to areas of the stables she'd never been and have her work on display for all to see. She gleefully said yes and ran home with an excitement she'd never known.

"Dad, dad! You're never gonna believe it! Madeline at the stables is going to let me paint there and hang my pictures up for all the riders to see! I can even sell them!"

"What? Who the hell would want to buy the amateur work of a no-named girl?"
"Oh shut up, those rich pricks'll buy anything," her mother chirped back. "Hell, price 'em at $1,000! Lord knows we could use that."
"Ha! Do that, no one's gonna buy 'em anyway," her father responded, sitting back down on the couch with his Jack Daniels.

Lily stormed to her room, slamming her door. Maybe her parents were right, maybe she should price them high. After all, she was the house painter of the stables now.

The next morning Lily awoke early again, making four trips back and forth getting all her paintings and supplies over to the stables. She spent the whole day making price tags and hanging each piece just right in the room she was given. Then she stepped back to marvel at her masterpiece. She'd never seen all her paintings hanging in the same place. Even she had to be impressed with her unique style. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

The first week there weren't many visitors, and Lily was still getting used to her new routine. However, she never failed to bring Casper's favorite carrots and finally finished his beautiful sunrise portrait. Those visitors that did come loved the new installation. They always took time to chat with Lily and learn about her work, but no one was buying. This went on for weeks until one day a cute, young polo player walked in. He lingered longer than most admiring her paintings before striking up a conversation.

"I love your paintings, how long have you been making them?"
"Only about a year," Lily blushed. Eager to keep the boy's attention.
"Wow, that's incredible! They're really good." He paused, losing himself in Lily's eyes for a moment. "How much for that one?" He said pointing at the first portrait of Casper she'd ever made.

Mustering all the confidence left inside her she responded, "a thousand dollars."
"Whoa! That's a lot of money. I can't afford that. I know I'm a polo player and I'm supposed to be rich and all, but actually my family isn't that well off. My uncle's the one who got me into polo. It was nice meeting you though!" The boy started for the door.

"Wait! I know that's a lot of money, my stupid parents convinced me to price it like that. It's not really worth that much. It's one of my first paintings anyway."
"Oh."
"What would you pay for it?"
"Oh gosh, I can't even come close to that."
"That's okay, I mean, I haven't sold one yet anyway," Lily said laughing.
"Well, in that case, I could do $100," the boy said.
"Sold!" Lily shouted in her best auctioneer impression.

The boy laughed, gave her his credit card, and took the painting with him. She'd done it! Her first sale!! And a hundred dollars no less. She couldn't believe it, she'd never made that much before. Again, she went home beaming only to be written off by her parents once more.

"See, I told you $1,000 was ridiculous."
"A hundred dollars doesn't change anyone's life."
"That'll probably be the only painting you sell."

But Lily didn't let her parents keep her from honing her sales skills. She got good at telling the riders all the stories behind her paintings and asking questions about their own lives. She'd always make the $100 seem like the deal of the century coming down from the $1,000 price tag she kept up. As she sold more and more paintings she heard more and more tales of a magical stable in the Hamptons where celebrities and Olympic jumpers rode the most beautiful horses. Maybe one day she'd get to live near a stable like that and own her own horse. It'd be a dapple just like Casper. She'd daydream about that life, her riding outfit, and maybe even a boy she'd fall in love with. Someone like that cute polo boy she sold her first painting to.

She was feeling good about herself. Sure, maybe her paintings weren't worth the $1,000 she claimed they were, but at least they were worth a hundred, and business was good.

Then one day, Madeline came into the gallery so excited it seemed like her eyeballs were going to pop straight out of her head. "Lily, Lily! You're never going to believe it! There's a rider here today from New York who runs one of the most prestigious galleries in Manhattan. I've told him all about your work and he's agreed to take a look!"

"That's amazing!" Lily said, trying to hide her fear. What if he didn't like her work? What if it wasn't good enough? Price tags, she must at least take the price tags off! Let him tell her what it's worth. Who knows, maybe it's even more! After all, he does own one of the best galleries in New York. So, Lily scrambled around taking down price tag after price tag as the curator walked in.

"Hi, I’m Lily!"
"I'm Max, charmed," he said in a subtlety British accent. "So this is your work?"
"Yep, it's all mine," Lily said, kicking herself for sounding so amateur.
"It's nice."

Then silence as he paced around from piece to piece taking it in. "Acrylic?"
"Yes, and oils too actually. I use a blend."
"Interesting." He lingered on the painting of Casper in the sunrise. It was her favorite.
"How much for this one?"
"You're the gallery owner, so I trust your valuation. Whatever you think is fair."

Excitement was starting to build again inside her. He gently took the painting off the wall.

“Are you going to hang it in your gallery?”

What would he value it at? Certainly more than $100, he owns a gallery for god's sake! 500? A thousand? More??! She held her breath. He walked over and handed her cash. "My daughter likes horses, it’s going in her play room. Pleasure meeting you," he said heading for the door. Lily looked down in her hand, he'd given her $50.

As the curator got near the door he noticed a price tag on one of the paintings, one Lily must have overlooked in her rush to get the tags off. He started laughing uncontrollably. "A thousand dollars?!? Maybe in twenty years." Then he left.

Lily burst into tears and ran down to the pasture. She couldn't control her crying. She slumped down onto the ground next to the fence where she'd painted Casper. Mid-sniffle, Casper walked up to her and tapped her hand with his nose. "I don't have any carrots, go away," she sobbed. Casper kept nudging. "I said go away!" She looked up, but Casper wouldn't leave. He just rested his nose on her hand and licked it affectionately. Slowly, Lily stood up and began to pet Casper's long nose. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all. She was still selling paintings, and if she kept it up long enough, maybe, just maybe, one day years from now she'd deserve a spot in the curator's gallery and a horse of her own. So, she pulled herself together and walked back up to the stables.

When she got there, another man was admiring her work. She wasn't in the mood to talk, so telling stories and asking questions seemed like torture. But she managed to fain interest and squeak out a story about the painting he seemed most interested in. He was a pleasant man, slightly reminiscent of the polo boy who bought her first painting. But judging by his clothes he was no Manhattan gallery owner. Despite her short answers and boring stories, the man would not stop asking questions about her style and work. The sparkle in his eye told her his curiosity was genuine, but it was exhausting. Finally, he took the hint and turned his attention away from her and back to the paintings. A few minutes later he approached with the one the curator had left laughing about.

"A thousand dollars right? Seems like a bargain," the man said smiling, pulling out his check book.
"What? Oh god no," Lily said trying to laugh off the embarrassment. "Sorry about that. It's a, it's a typo. Just give me a hundred dollars."
"But it says a thousand dollars, you should..."
"Clearly you're not a sophisticated collector," Lily interrupted. "And have no idea what you're talking about. The owner of Manhattan's finest gallery was just here and paid me $50 for a piece.” She caught herself and tried to recover, “But I'm charging you $100 for that one, because, well it's twice as good." It was the best she could do.

The man stared at Lily, confused. Looking into her troubled eyes it was clear he was not going to convince her of what she was really worth. So, he put his checkbook back, pulled out his wallet, and handed her a crisp hundred-dollar bill. Then he left with the painting.

Lily took a deep breathe, trying to collect herself from the emotional roller coaster.

“How’d it go?” Madeline asked, poking her head around the corner.
“I won’t be sipping champagne at Max’s gallery any time soon.”
”No, I mean with Ben.”
”Who’s Ben?”
”The owner of the stable in the Hamptons. I just sent him over here to meet you. He happened to be passing through.”

This was the stable she'd heard story after story about. Where all the celebrities and Olympic jumpers rode.

“Uh, well, he bought one of my paintings.”
”That’s great! Not a lot of people know this, but he’s the largest collector of equestrian artwork in the world.” Madeline said as she headed back to the stables.

Realizing the opportunity she’d missed, Lily bolted for the door. It was too late. All she could see were the taillights of his sports car fading away.