The smell was fresh. New carvings were hung just hours before. I look in search of a beautiful piece to bring home to my mother.

I knew I was in store for a very tough bargain. This wood craftsmen is undoubtedly the best in the business, and his prices reflect his mastery skill.

Everywhere I gazed I saw a new piece. Artistry and craftsmanship of the highest appraisal.

“How much for this hanging sun,” I asked the dreadlocks Rastamon.

“Ahhh, that piece there is very expensive” he quickly replied.

“I could probably do 125 USD. That is my very best price.”

I allowed what he said to sink in for a bit. I took my attention away from the sun and continued to glance around his shop.

I had a plan in mind but I was unsure if it’d work. My hope was to counter for the sun I had spotted. I knew it was the piece that I had to bring back home. My mother collects suns and I knew she would love it.

I waited for the right moment to raise my question.

“How about 90 USD for the hanging sun?”

He turned from his work station and faced my direction. I was nervous my offer was too low for his liking.

“Young boy, I will have to think about this price. 125 was a firm price on the sun.”

What I said next may have been just what he needed to hear.

“I am buying this piece to bring home to my mother. I intend to buy it with my own hard earned money.”

Since I was only a small boy, about 10 at the time, he thought much harder about the number I had mentioned. He paused and pondered for a minute. Then he said this:

“My boy, the sun is yours to bring home to your mother.”

I remember my face lighting up with excitement and glee. I had just bargained with the toughest of them all on Negril’s 7-mile beach. I was very happy with the purchase I had made.

The sun hangs still in my mother’s kitchen. A memory and story that will live on forever.