AN OLD MAN ANGRILY LEFT THE HOUSE TO KEEP THE CHILD WHO WAS DRAWING ON HIS WALL WITH CHARCOAL BUT THE OLD MAN SUDDENLY KNEELED IN CRYING WHEN HE SAW THAT WHAT HE THOUGHT WAS VANDALISM WAS INSTEAD THE FACE OF HIS OLD SON WHO HE ONLY CAUGHT IN HIS DREAMS

Mang Dante was hot-tempered.

He had just finished painting the wall of his fence pristine white yesterday. He wanted his house to look clean—no stains, no dirt, like his life since he was alone. He didn’t want trouble. He didn’t want noise. Especially the street kids playing in front of his house.

“Nonsense,” Dante whispered as he peered out the window.

At noon, while he was drinking coffee, he heard a scraping sound outside. The sound of a stone or hard object scraping against the cement.

Skritch… Skritch…

He peeked again. His eyes widened and the blood rushed to his head.

A boy, who he estimated to be about ten years old, was standing behind him, writing on his newly painted wall! The boy was wearing a torn shirt, no slippers, and his hands were black as a sheet.

“This shameless kid!” Dante shouted. “He told me to take down my wall!”

Out of anger, Dante picked up a thick leather belt from the sofa. He was determined to teach the kid a lesson. He was fed up with the “Gangster” vandalism or the rude drawings in their neighborhood.

He slammed the gate open.

BLAG!

“HEY! WHO SAID YOU WOULD TAKE DOWN MY WALL?!” Dante yelled as he approached the boy, holding the belt that was already raised in the air.

The boy jumped in shock. He dropped the charcoal he was holding. He turned to Dante, trembling, his eyes wide with fear. The boy’s face was also covered in charcoal and dirt.

“S-Sir? Sorry! Don’t hit me!” the boy cried, covering his head with his dirty arms.

“What?! You’re so fat you’re dirtying my fence!” Dante was about to hit the boy. “Look at what you’ve done! What a mess! Who are you working for?!”

Out of anger, Dante didn’t immediately look at the drawing. His eyes were fixed on the boy he wanted to get rid of.

“Look at it first…” the boy sobbed. “Sorry… I thought you’d like it…”

“You’d like it?! The dirt—”

Dante was cut off when his eyes hit the wall.

He was stunned. The belt he was holding slowly came down. His angry expression was replaced by surprise, then shock, and finally… deep sadness.

The drawing on the wall was not just any doodle or graffiti.

Page: SAY – Story Around You | Original story.

Using only charcoal and chalk, the boy drew a very realistic portrait. The black of the charcoal was used for the shadows and hair, while the white of the wall served as the skin.

The drawing was the face of a young girl with long hair, a mole under her left eye, and a smile that reached from ear to ear. Her eyes seemed to be speaking, full of life.

Dante let go of the belt.

Plaque.

His knees trembled. It was as if he had been pulled by force. He knelt on the cement, right in front of the drawing. He slowly raised his hand and caressed the cheek of the one drawn on the wall.

“C-Clarissa…” Dante whispered hoarsely. “My daughter…”

Clarissa was Dante’s only child who died five years ago from leukemia. She was the reason why Dante became grumpy and lonely. Ever since he lost his daughter, he had thrown away or hidden all of her photos because he couldn’t look at them without breaking his heart.

But now, Clarissa was looking at him from the wall. Very alive. The smile he hadn’t seen in a long time was in front of him again.

Tears flooded Dante’s eyes. He sobbed loudly in the middle of the street, not caring if anyone heard.

“My daughter… Clarissa…” Dante cried, hugging the wall. Soot mixed with his clothes and face, but he didn’t care.

The little boy just stood on the side, not knowing what to do.

When Dante calmed down a little, he turned to the child.

“Kid…” Dante called, full of snot and tears. “Who are you? W-How did you meet my son? How did you know his face?”

The boy wiped his cold with the back of his hand.

“I’m Nonoy, Dad,” the boy replied. “I don’t have a house. Before, when Ate Clarissa was still alive… she always gave me bread when she passed by the park. She was kind to me. She was the only one who noticed me when I was hungry.”

Nonoy continued. “Then, I saw you the other night on the veranda. You were crying while holding your picture frame. Then you threw it in the trash because you were angry with God. I took the picture from the trash… I hid it.”

Nonoy took a crumpled lit

rato from the pocket of his dirty shorts. This is the photo that Dante threw away on the anniversary of his son’s death because he was so depressed.

“I just wanted to give you back that smile,” said Nonoy. “I don’t have money to buy canvas or paper. So I’ll just put it on the wall. I’m only using charcoal because that’s all I have. Sorry if I got dirty.”

Dante cried even more. What he thought was vandalism was a masterpiece of love and gratitude. The boy he almost spanked was actually the one who was keeping the memory he was trying to escape.

Dante stood up and instead of spanking, he hugged Nonoy tightly. He hugged the boy who smelled of the sun and the charcoal.

“Thank you… Thank you, Nonoy,” Dante sobbed. “You didn’t put dirt on my wall. You brought back the light in my life.”

Since then, Dante has not erased the drawing. He sprayed fixative so that the rain wouldn’t erase it. That wall became an attraction in the barangay, a symbol of art and hope.

And Nonoy? He was no longer a street kid. Dante took him in. He taught him and bought him a real sketchpad, pencils, and paints. They became father and son. Dante realized that even though God took Clarissa, He sent an angel with dirty hands but a very pure heart to remind him that love never dies, it just takes on a new form.