As a lawyer, my father worked long hours and often came home when I was already in bed. But on nights that he was home early, he would tell me bedtime stories about his childhood. My favorite story was about my dad's magic "sando" (shirt). The story always started the same way.
When I was a young boy, I walked to school each day with my classmates. One morning on my way to school, there was an old beggar woman on the side of the road asking people that walked by for spare change in order to buy food. Most of my classmates ignored her cries and pretended not to see her while other boys were mean spirited and even laughed at her dirty appearance. But not my dad. He was a good boy. He felt sorry for the old beggar woman but he did not have any money. So instead, he stopped and gave her his own lunch to eat. The frail woman was so moved by his kindness and generosity that she thanked him with a present, a magic shirt. But the shirt did not look magical. It was so old and threadbare; it looked as if it would disintegrate right on your back if worn in the rain. But she insisted that it was a magical shirt and because my dad was a polite young boy, he took the present with gratitude and went on his way.
When he got home from school, he did his chores and forgot all about the excitement of the day. Later that night, he found the shirt in his bag and remembered the old woman’s promise of its special powers. Hesitant to even put this soiled shirt against his bare skin, he finally convinced himself to put it on. My dad turned to see himself in the mirror but to his shock and amazement, he wasn’t there. He was invisible! The beggar woman was right; it was a magical shirt! And that was the beginning of many great adventures. At first, he would play tricks on his mother to make her think there were ghosts. My grandmother would be so frightened by his tricks that she would faint and he would always feel sorry afterwards for scaring her. Other versions of the story would have him sneaking on planes that took him to America. On other nights he became a brave crime fighter outsmarting bank robbers and stopping thieves all in the secrecy and safety of his wonderful “sando.”
I don’t know what made me think of that story tonight but I wanted to write it down for safe keeping.
