When the Viet Nam conflict broke out, the son went to war.  He was a very courageous soldier and died in the field while rescuing another soldier.  The father was notified and grieved deeply for the loss of his son.

About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door.  A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands.  He said, "Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom you son gave his life.  He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly.  He often talked about you, and your love for art.  The young man held out his package.  "I know this isn't much and I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this."  The father opened the package.  It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man.  The personality of his son was in the painting.  The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears.  He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture.  "oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me, it's a gift."  The father hung the portrait over his mantle.  Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works they had collected.

A few months later the man died.  There was to be an auction of his paintings.  Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having the opportunity to to purchase one for their collection.  On the platform sat the painting of the son.  The Auctioneer pounded his gavel.  "We will begin the bidding with this picture of the son.  Who will bid for this picture?"  There was silence.  Then a voice from the back of the room shouted "We want to see the famous painting, skip that one"

But the auctioneer persisted.  "Will someone bid for this painting?  Who will start the bidding?  $100, $200?."  Another voice shouted angrily, "we didn't come to see this painting, we came to see the Van Goughs and the Rembrandts.  Get on with the real bids."   But still the auctioneer continued.  "The son, the son, who'll take the son?"

Finally a voice came from the very back of the room.  It was the longtime Gardener of the man and his son.  "I'll give $10 for the painting."  Being a poor man it was all he could afford.  "We have $10, who will bid $20?"  "Give it to him for $10, shouted someone in the room, let's see the masters."  "$10 dollars is the bid, won't someone bid $20?"

The crowd was becoming angry.  They didn't want the picture of the son.  The wanted the more worthy investments for their collections.

The Auctioneer pounded his gavel.  "Going once, twice, SOLD, for $10.  A man sitting in the second row shouted, "now let's get on with the collection!"  The Auctioneer laid down his gavel.  "I'm sorry, the auction is over."  "What about the paintings?"  "I am sorry...when I was called to do the auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will.  I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time.  Only the painting of the son would be auctioned.  Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings.  "The man who took the son, gets everything!"