Black and elegant, it captured my attention the moment I laid eyes on it.  The worn edges where the wood showed through the paint only enhanced its beauty in my eyes.  Where will you put it, Ping asked, looking a bit skeptical.  In the hallway that leads to the conference room, I responded.  I could visualize its long, slender, and somewhat tall shape hugging that wall.  It stands there now, holding fragile figurines that depict beautiful Chinese ladies.  Some are holding musical instruments.  Some have tiny, delicate earrings that actually turn in their ears.  Bracelets on their slender arms also turn.  All are wearing beautiful clothing.  They are, in a word, exquisite.

You are paying too much for the table, Ping insisted before I bought it.  We didn't argue, but I saw a beauty that transcended price.  A value beyond its wooden structure.  Something to catch and hold the eye.  Something to evoke warm feelings.  A conversation piece that would cause people to stop and ask about it when they first saw it.  Something that would make you wonder about its history; about the stories it could tell.  You can't place a value on something like this, I told Ping.  It looks far more expensive than the price we are paying.

So today a lady from India was in our office.  She is a cultured woman.  One who knows and appreciates both Eastern and Western ways.  The table stopped her in her tracks.  This is so beautiful, she said as she rubbed her hand lovingly on the worn but smooth edges of its top.  Thank you so much, I said.  Please tell my wife. 

Later, I asked Ping proudly if the lady had told her how much she loves our altar table.  Ping didn't give an inch.  Yes, she told me, Ping said.  Now you can sell it to her for twice what you paid for it.