When i was a young boy,i knew and loved a man who was notoriously stingy with his money.
He was often inconsiderate of others.
Although he managed to make quite a lot of money,he never did thoughtful things for other people nor did he sacrifice himself too devotedly on community projects.
Yet when he died many years later,the whole village wept.
Everybody adored him,and no one quite seemed to know why.
Everyone missed him.
They still miss him.
As for me,and at that young age,his best contribution to my life was his juicy,succulent,sweet and almost rotting mangoes that he used to dole out to us boys on our way back from school.
He had a big farm and grew mangoes for sale.
After grading them for the market,he would give us the over-ripe mangoes that he couldn’t otherwise sell,maybe as a bribe so that we won’t be tempted to sneak…
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