The Fingerprints on the Wall chapter 2

After that, my daughter often went to watch the painter work. One day, she told me that it was so cold, but the painter was lying on the ground sleeping without a blanket. She asked me to buy a blanket for the painter. I said helplessly, “Dad doesn’t run a charity. I don’t have extra money for that.” But my daughter didn’t care. She just insisted that I buy one, and she argued, “He painted our walls.”

I couldn’t stand her pestering, so I picked out an old coat and asked my daughter to give it to the painter as a blanket. But my daughter said the coat was too thin and not warm at all. She wanted to give him my down jacket. I got angry and said, “I still need to wear this down jacket. How can I give it away?” My daughter wriggled and said, “You gave a similar coat to Uncle before. Why can’t you give it to this painter? You told me not to look down on him, but you’re doing it yourself.” As she said this, she started to cry.

Seeing my daughter so sad, my heart softened. I had to give her the down jacket. My daughter stopped crying and smiled. She happily left with the down jacket in her arms.

After giving away the down jacket, my daughter wanted to buy a schoolbag. I said, “Your schoolbag is still new. You don’t need a new one.” My daughter said, “The painter has a son named Tommy. He doesn’t have a schoolbag. I want to give one to him.” She kept pestering me until I agreed. I still warned her, “This is the last time. You can’t ask me to give him anything else.”

After giving away the schoolbag, my daughter didn’t ask me for anything for the painter again. I thought we’d have no more contact with him. But unexpectedly, near Christmas, he came to visit us. I learned that his name was Jack and his hometown was in a small town far from here.

Jack came to return the down jacket and the schoolbag. He said nervously, “I used the jacket as a blanket once, and the schoolbag has never been used. See if they’re dirty?” I said, “The clothes and the schoolbag were gifts for you. You don’t need to return them.” Jack said seriously, “No matter how poor I am, I can’t take advantage like this.”

Actually, I was also a bit reluctant to give away the down jacket. I picked up the schoolbag and put it in his arms, saying, “This schoolbag is from my daughter to your son. You must accept it.” Jack thought for a while and said, “Thank you and your daughter then.” He slung the schoolbag over his shoulder and smiled like a child.

Jack looked up at the wall and asked softly, “Your daughter told me there’s my fingerprint on your wall. Can I have a look?” I said, “Sure.” Then I took him into my daughter’s room.

When I pointed out the fingerprint on the wall to Jack, I found that my daughter had pasted some little red stickers around the fingerprint. Jack gently stroked the stickers one by one. He was very excited, and his thick fingers trembled slightly. After touching the stickers, he leaned forward to look at the fingerprint. He compared it with his own finger and said seriously, “This should be the fingerprint of my left thumb. Yes, it is. Look at the pattern, round and round. It’s exactly the same as the one on my finger. Hey, how did I leave a fingerprint on the wall? It’s really interesting.”

After looking at the fingerprint on the wall, Jack left contentedly. Before leaving, he asked me, “Do you mind if I leave a fingerprint on the wall?” I said, “No problem. After painters finish their paintings, they stamp on them. When you finish painting a wall, leaving a fingerprint is like stamping on your own work.”

I just said it casually, but Jack’s eyes lit up. “You’re absolutely right! From now on, I’ll leave a fingerprint on every wall I paint.”

The next day, Jack went back to his hometown for Christmas. I thought he’d come back after the holiday, but when the workers started working again, Jack was nowhere to be seen. The other workers said he’d joined another construction team.

Maybe Jack is painting walls in another city now, leaving fingerprints on one wall after another. I hope that when people move into new houses, they’ll be like my daughter, discover the fingerprints on the walls, and surround them with little red stickers.