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Originally, I had the idea to make a very shallow rectangular
case that attached to the wall and had shelves and one glass
door. However, my friend suggested that it would be better
to make a freestanding cabinet in two parts with two panel
doors on the bottom and one glass door on top. I agreed. Since
he could not go to see the house, I gave him the wall measurements
and we decided together on the depth of the cabinet. He had
a busy daily schedule, with three young teenagers, but being
a very giving and considerate person, he gave up his precious
free time for the cabinet. He scrounged for materials and
made the cabinet parts over a period of several weekends.
One day, he and his youngest daughter brought the cabinet
pieces to my house and started assembling them. I kept myself
at a distance, watching them as they worked. He would say
to her, "Hold it a little higher, honey, and don't move."
She was in a very awkward position. The board was a little
higher than her chin. One could see that she was trying very
hard. She pressed her lips together. She could barely see
over the work, but her eyes were serious. Her hands were tightly
clenched, and around her little knuckles the skin had turned
ivory white. Meanwhile, at the other end of the board, her
father was using a cordless drill to fasten the parts together
with screws. It was a wonderful sight for anyone's eyes.
Considering the limited material and time he had, the cabinet
came out quite well. His generosity and thoughtful gesture
filled the work. My critical eyes to the workmanship and quality
of material were irrelevant. I knew he could do excellent
work if he had enough time and good material. I was very pleased
and brought it over to Pat.
The cabinet fit in the room well. I told Pat, "I will
measure the spacing between the cabinet and the ceiling and
cover it nicely," but she said, "Never mind, I will
fill that area with silk flowers." She and Howie were
very happy to receive the cabinet and joyfully discussed which
color to stain it. While we were still talking, Pat added
that she had a friend who knew about staining furniture. I
assumed she would talk with him before coloring her cabinet.
Two days later, I gave them a ring. I was curious to know
which color they had chosen. When Pat picked up the phone,
I felt something was terribly wrong. I didn't ask what it
was, I just said, "I will come right now." When
I arrived at her house, some of her close friends were there.
She had stained the cabinet using a color she liked, but the
wood looked like it had acquired an intense skin disease.
The material was all maple. However, my friend had used wood
that had many different characteristics-some plywood, some
veneer and some solid wood-and they each took the stain in
a different way.
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