The Seller Of Hope

A young man in the sweltering heat, having just taken four flights of stairs, knocks on the wooden door. He likes to begin his sales pitch at the top of the building.

An elderly man opens the door after quite a while.

"Dear Sir, I come to your door selling mirrors."

The old man smiles and says in a trembling voice, "But my dear man, what would I need a mirror for? I am blind."

The young salesman pauses for a minute. He now notices the man staring into the distance. He doesn't want to seem heartless but he needs to make at least ten sales that day. It was afternoon already and he'd made just one sale so far.

Desperate, he says, "For your loved ones then -"

"Heh! I live alone, son."

"Umm, I'm sorry, sir. I... I must have misspoken. I have come to you selling hope."

"Hmm, and how does that work?"

"You see, sir. This mirror is hope, the symbol of hope. One day you will be able to see yourself again and that day you will look into this mirror and remember that hope is always a good thing."

"You know, I've lived my entire life. I lost my eyes years ago and I know I will never see again. And I know that all you're trying to do is make a sale. But I like the way you think."

The young man sighs. He doesn't know what else to say. His company didn't prepare him for a situation like this. Who tries to sell mirrors to the blind anyway? He closes his eyes and holds his breath. Just when he is about to turn away, dejected, the old man says, "I'd like to buy two pieces of hope from you, please. How much?"