The Old Painting...

There's this painting I came across.
It was old, very old, had a tear in the corner..heavy overwriting of strokes at some places, thinning of colors at places, the canvas threads had started to separate..

The painting took time to catch my eye. Because I was overwhelmed by the details I'd just described. I was so lost in taking in every separating thread, every overwritten stroke, every thinning hue, that the picture it formed escaped my eyes..

I never saw that each thread of the canvas gave form to the silhouette of a mother and that of a child held carefully in her arms. Each hue brought life to the young cheek and the loving ripe hand. Each overwritten stroke was a mistake corrected. The colors however thinning still brought out the peace among them, the happiness, the love, the care.
The old oils had still all the elements of a brilliant painting..fine strokes, apt colors, strong canvas...all of them that held on.

But how would I ever know? I never went beyond...