The Boy and His Voilin

There was a boy in central park that was playing the violin.

His bow was beginning to break: the horsehair was slowly detaching.

And yet, there he stood, in a bright orange shirt, leaning against a statue, playing this violin.

Playing this violin beautifully.

A crowd of people began to surface around him.

The pond went still.

The air became soft.

The traffic was silent.

The spectators held their breaths.

And for a moment, there were just people who happened to be in the same place, listening to the boy and his violin.

When he finished the song, people applauded with smiles on their faces.

Some stopped their video recordings and walked away.

Others stepped up to put a dollar in his violin case.

An older couple strolled in his direction to ask him some questions.

Then, he began to play again.

He played and played.

But the crowd dissipated, and the sun began to set.

Nevertheless, the boy stood there, playing his violin.

His bright orange shirt began to mix with the color of the fading sky.

And for a little while, we were reminded that this world can be beautiful too.