It is not the first time I have overheard a conversation among students in which they are scouring a magazine for cheerful news, lamenting the fact that they cannot seem to find any and concluding that the world is a very tough place. Nor is it the first time I have ever interjected in such an exchange, feeling obliged as I do to set the record straight!
In making my case for the victory of the good over the not-so-good, I have drawn on all manner of evidence over the years. Scarce is the field of human endeavor on which I have not called in my plea for optimism. Yet nothing can quite match the power of persuasion of the story I once heard and have been recounting ever since about the Argentinian golfer Roberto De Vincenzo, a story which may well be apocryphal, for I stopped trying to verify its accuracy a long time ago. Fiction or not, the tale is worth telling.
Which is what I did last week, when I came across a group of students perusing the news in the cafeteria and asked them if they had found anything uplifting which they might be willing to share with me. I was saddened, but through past experience certainly not surprised to hear them reply something akin to: “Sorry, sir. Just the usual. War, disease, pollution. There’s nothing uplifting at all in these pages.”
My response? “Dear students,” I rejoined, seizing this opportunity to speak with them about De Vincenzo. “Would you please allow me to tell you a story about an Argentinian called Roberto De Vincenzo, one of the top golfers on earth?” And since they assented with their characteristic politeness, I started to weave my tale.
One evening, I began, Mr. De Vincenzo, after winning a three-day golf tournament and being presented with a check for $1,000,000, at the end of an exquisite dinner at a remarkably prestigious golf course in the suburbs of Buenos Aires, was standing alone at the entrance of this exclusive club, waiting for the parking valet to bring him his automobile. When all of a sudden, in the bushes behind him, hidden from sight by a blanket of darkness, he heard rustling and coughing and whimpering.
And lo and behold, from out of the shadows, there emerged what looked like a woman, holding a baby, enveloped in rags, just barely visible. The girl was covered in dirt and leaves; the tears streaming down her face left smudges as they flowed. “Sir,” she said. “Sir, can you please spare some change for a poor mother and her baby who is dying. My baby is gravely sick and we’ve no money to see a doctor, nowhere to live, no food to eat, sir.”
Deeply moved, Roberto De Vincenzo did not think twice. Pulling out a pen, he endorsed the check he had just won and handed it to the woman. “Please take this,” De Vincenzo said. “I hope it will help.” And no sooner did he give her the million dollars than she whispered some thanks and disappeared back into the bushes from which she had come. A few instants later, the parking valet arrived with De Vincenzo’s car and the golfer was able to leave for home.
About six weeks down the road, Roberto De Vincenzo received a telephone call from the president of the golf course where he had earned his $1,000,000. From the outset, De Vincenzo sensed that something was wrong. The president’s voice conveyed worry as he asked the golfer one question after another. “Mr. De Vincenzo, did anything out of the ordinary happen to you that evening of the banquet, after the dinner, while you were waiting for your car at the entrance?” To which the golfer answered, after a pause: “Yes.”
“And did a woman dressed in rags come out of the bushes and ask you for money, Mr. De Vincenzo?” the president went on. “Yes,” replied De Vincenzo. “And did you give her anything, sir? By any chance, did you sign over your winnings to her?” “I did”, came the response. “Oh dear, Mr. De Vincenzo. The police thought you might have done so, based on something they found in her possession. You see, sir, that girl is not who she told you she was. She isn’t poor. She isn’t homeless. She’s part of an organized crime syndicate which has stolen from several of our members, sir. Your check…I’m afraid your check has been cashed and the money is gone, sir. You were tricked. Mr. De Vincenzo, we are terribly sorry.”
Because there was silence on the other end of the line, the president of the club repeated: “The girl was a fraud, sir. Mr. De Vincenzo, we are truly, truly sorry.” “Do you mean then,” the golfer slowly asked. “Do you mean then that there was no dying baby?” “Dying baby, sir?” asked the president. “Yes, dying baby. The young woman told me that the baby she was cradling in her arms was gravely sick.” “No, sir,” said the president. “There was no dying baby.”
It is at then that Roberto De Vincenzo said the following: “Mr. President, thank you for your call. Thank you because the fact there was never a dying baby, well, that’s simply the best news I have ever heard.” And De Vincenzo hung up the phone.
When I told this tale to our students last week, it had the effect it often has on young listeners: it yielded a smile. “What do you think?” I asked. “Isn’t there always cause for optimism?” “Yes, sir” they answered, out of courtesy, perhaps, but I am quite sure I detected conviction in their voices too. To understand that there is always, always reason to look on the bright side of life is my greatest wish for our students in 2013. May they have confidence indeed that the future will live up to the hope which they place in it.
About the Author :
Sean Lynch was Head of School at the Lycée Français de New York from 2011 to 2018, after having spent 15 years at another French bilingual school outside of Paris: the Lycée International de St. Germain-en-Laye. Holding both French and American nationalities, educated in France (Sciences Po Paris) and the United States (Yale), and as the proud husband of a French-American spouse and father of two French-American daughters, Sean Lynch has spent his entire professional and personal life at the junction between the languages, cultures and educational systems of France and the United States. In addition to being passionate about education, he loves everything related to the mountains, particularly the Parc National du Mercantour.