"Music gives soul to the universe,
wings to the mind,
flight to the imagination,
and life to everything."
i was holding jacob's little hand in mine. we were almost out of the children's section of the library, ready to check out, when i saw the book. on the cover was a little boy. he had a striped woolen hat pulled snugly over his head and one small hand was straining toward someone in the distance. a thick crowd of adults crowded the foreground, colored in dark shades of gray. a violinist was swaying in the background. the little boy wanted to get closer to the music, but no one was letting him.
i grabbed the book off the shelf and we plopped down on the carpet, jacob and i. he listened as i read the man with the violin to him.
the story was poignant, one that made the news years ago. how one of the world's most adored violinists, the famed joshua bell, brought his stradivarius down into the bowels of washington's d.c.'s metro; spent almost an hour playing music that, in a proper concert hall, would have left the audience reeling; but here, in a dirty metro station during morning rush hour, only a handful of people broke stride to stop.
but the little boy wanted to. his hand tugged at his mother's and he begged her to stop so he could hear the music, but she rushed him on.
we scrambled up from the floor and i gently put the book away. but the story--and the music--stayed with me.