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When I was 17, I read a magazine article about a museum called the McNay, once the home of a watercolourist named Marian McNay. She had requested the community to turn it into a museum upon her death. On a sunny Saturday, Sally and I drove over to the museum. She asked, "Do you have the address?" "No, but I'll recognize it. There was a picture in the magazine. "
"Oh, stop. There it is!"
The museum was free. We entered, excited. A group of people sitting in the hall stopped talking and stared at us.
"May I help you?" a man asked. "No," I said. "We're fine. " Tour guides got on my nerves. What if they talked a long time about a painting you weren't so interested in? Sally had gone upstairs. The people in the hall seemed very nosy (爱窥探的), keeping their eyes on me with curiosity. What was their problem? I saw some nice sculptures in one room. Suddenly I sensed a man standing behind me. "Where do you think you are?" he asked. I turned sharply. "The McNay Art Museum!" He smiled, shaking his head. "Sorry, the McNay is on New Braunfels Street. " "What's this place?" I asked, still confused. "Well, it's our home. " My heart jolted (震颤). I raced to the staircase and called out, "Sally! Come down immediately!"
"There's some really good stuff (艺术作品) up there," she stepped down, looking confused. I pushed her toward the front door, waving at the family, saying, "Sorry, please forgive us. You have a really nice place. " Outside, when I told Sally what happened, she covered her mouth, laughing. She couldn't believe how long they let us look around without saying anything.
The real McNay was splendid, but we felt nervous the whole time we were there. This time, we stayed together, in case anything else unusual happened.
Thirty years later, a woman greeted me in a public place. "Excuse me, did you ever enter a residence, long ago, thinking it was the McNay Museum?"
"Yes. But how do you know? We never told anyone. "
"That was my home. I was a teenager sitting in the hall. Before you came over, I never realized what a beautiful place I lived in. I never felt lucky before. You thought it was a museum. My feelings about my home changed after that. I've always wanted to thank you. "
