My l4-year-old son, John, and I spotted the coat simultaneously. It was hanging on a rack at a secondhand clothing store in Northampton Mass, crammed in with shoddy trench coats and an assortment of sad , woolen overcoats -- a rose among thorns.

In a used clothing store in Northampton, Massachusetts, my 14-year-old son, John, and I set our sights on that coat at the same time. There it was, hanging on a clothes rack, among shoddy military raincoats and assorted shabby woolen coats, yet it looked like a rose among thorns.

While the other coats drooped, this one looked as if it were holding itself up. The thick, black wool of the double-breasted chesterfield was soft and unworn, as though it had been preserved in mothballs for years in dead old Uncle Henry's steamer trunk. The coat had a black velvet collar, beautiful tailoring, a Fifth Avenue label and an unbelievable price of $28. We looked at each other, saying nothing, but John's eyes gleamed. Dark, woolen topcoats were popular just then with teenage boys, but could cost several hundred dollars new. This coat was even better, bearing that touch of classic elegance from a bygone era.

All the other coats looked listless, but this one was arrogant. . The thick black cashmere is soft and fluffy. This double-breasted long coat with dark buttons has obviously not been worn yet. It looks like it has been stored with moth balls in old Uncle Henry's flat suitcase for many years. The workmanship is exquisite: the collar is black velvet, the label is Fifth Avenue, and the price is unbelievable, only $28. We looked at each other without saying a word, but John's eyes shone with joy. Black cashmere light coats were very popular among young men at that time. It would cost hundreds of dollars to buy a new one, but this one was of better quality and had a classical beauty of a bygone era.

John slid his arms down into the heavy satin lining of the sleeves and buttoned the coat. He turned from side to side, eyeing himself in the mirror with a serious, studied expression that soon changed into a smile. The fit was perfect.

John slipped his arms into the sleeves - they were lined with thick satin and buttoned. He turned and looked at himself in front of the mirror, and the serious expression on his face soon turned into a smile. The clothes fit me perfectly.

John wore the coat to school the next day and came home wearing a big grin. "Ho. did the kids like your coat?" I asked. "They loved it," he said, carefully folding it over the back of a chair and smoothing it flat. I started calling him "Lord Chesterfield" and "The Great Gatsby."

John wore it to school the next day. He came back from school with a smile on his face. I asked him, "What did the kids think of your coat?" "They liked it very much," he said, carefully folding the coat on the back of his chair and flattening it with a wave of his hand. So I started calling him "Lord Chesterfield" and "The Great Gatsby."

Over the next few weeks, a change came over John. Agreement replaced contrariness, quiet, reasoned discussion replaced argument. He became more judicious, more mannerly, more thoughtful, eager to please. “Good dinner, Mom ," he would say every evening.

In the next few weeks, John slowly changed: he became obedient instead of deliberately being antagonistic, and he could discuss things calmly instead of speaking forcefully. He became more sensible, polite, and considerate. He also enjoys pleasing people. Every night he would say: "Mom, dinner was great."

He would generously loan his younger brother his tapes and lecture him on the niceties of behavior; without a word of objection, he would carry in wood for the stove. One day when I suggested that he might start on homework before dinner, John -- a veteran procrastinator – said, "You're right. I guess I will."

He will be very good. He generously lent his tape to his brother and told him how to behave; he would bring in the wood for the stove without complaint.

One day when I suggested that he start doing his homework before dinner, John, who always procrastinated, said, "You're right, I think I'll do it."

When I mentioned this incident to one of his teachers and remarked that I didn't know what caused the changes, she said laughing. "It must be his coat!" Another teacher told him she was giving him a good mark not only because he had earned it but because she liked his coat. At the library, we ran into a friend who had not seen our children in a long time, "Could this be John?" he asked, looking up to John's new height, assessing the cut of his coat and extending his hand, one gentleman to another.

When I mentioned this to one of his teachers and said I didn’t know why, she laughed and said, “It must be because of his coat!” Another teacher told him she was going to give him a good grade not just because he deserved it but because she liked his coat. In the library we met a friend who hadn't seen our kids in a long time. Seeing John's height and commenting on the style of his coat, the friend couldn't help but ask: "Is this John?" At the same time, he extended his hand to John, which was completely a gentleman's behavior.

John and I both know we should never mistake a person's clothes for the real person within them. But there is something to be said for wearing a standard of excellence for the world to see, for practicing standards of excellence in though, speech, and behavior, and for matching what is on the inside to what is on the outside.

John and I both know that you should not judge people by their appearance, but you can dress elegantly for the world to see, and in your thoughts, It is another matter to practice excellent standards in words and actions to achieve harmony and unity both internally and externally.

Sometimes, watching John leave for school, I've remembered with a keen sting what it felt like to be in the eighth grade -- a time when it was as easy to try on different approaches to life as it was to try on a coat. The whole world, the whole future is stretched out ahead, a vast panorama where all the doors are open. And if I were there right now, I would picture myself walking through those doors wearing my wonderful, magical coat.

Sometimes when I watch John go to school, I can't help but feel my heart skip a beat, remembering how I felt when I was in 8th grade - when trying out different lifestyles was as easy as trying on clothes. The whole world, the whole future, unfolds before you like a giant picture, where every door is open. If I could go back there right now, I would walk through those doors wearing that wonderful, magical coat.

Source: Examination for College - Junior College, Four and Eighth College Examination