I was born to sing. Long ago the bow would caress my strings and my voice rang clear and strong, evoking tears with tender song of sadness........ folks would sway and fall in love. To be sure I'd bring feet to dancing, hands to clap time as I'd sing you joy before I'd leave.
One night, my case closed over me and I went to sleep. When morning came, all was quiet. No one came to play me . No one came to let me sing in the dawn, and no one came to play me under the stars.
Days turned into nights and weeks passed before, finally, I felt myself being dragged across the floor and my case flung wide.
Dust danced in streaming sunbeams, and I was snatched out with my bow and quickly taken downstairs.
I was turned over and over again, mother of pearl shining in the bright light. Fingers caressed every inch of my wood body and neck, from my tiger striped edge to my intricate cut scrolls.
Someone reverently lifted me up, bow to my strings, and I began to sing. A hush fell across the room as I sang out all the lonliness and uncertainty that had been mine for so long. Oh, it felt so good!
After that, I was out every night, twice on Sundays. Lovers fell in love to my songs, and my voice rang joyful at weddings and every celebration.
I was happy, but getting worn, and on a cold January day in 1948 I was taken apart and re-voiced by W.W. Sipers, who wrote his name in my belly with a smile.
Oh, how young and lively I felt, tight and fit, singing love songs out on the balcony under a full moon. Lovers passed by. The music of life burst through my strings and all was well with my world.
But something was happening; the hand that drew the bow to loose my voice was getting weaker, until one day, the bow just fell to the floor. I stood in the corner for a while, mute and resting. Until the day I was wiped clean and returned to my case.
Once again, I was silently waiting...... longing to be heard. Years passed, and I resigned to sing only in my dreams. I'd lived a full life, and had many memories in which to dwell.
Snap. I awoke in the tiny young hands of a student. At first he plucked on my strings, and the bow was unsteady in his hand as he pulled out my voice thin and shaky.
Next I knew, I was tucked in a new case ----- and a good thing, too, with all the jostling from place to place. Gradually, his hand grew steady and sure. Once again, I was singing free.
A bright blue ribbon decorated my case, as I sang with renewed splendor. There was a ribbon in the trumpet's case, too, and eventually the horn was getting more play and I got less.
Back inside the case again, I only came out on occasion. When I sang, all the emotion from the years came through, and people still fell in love.
But I was born to sing, not just occasionally.... everyday!
I'm strong and beautiful. My voice is pure.
I'm waiting for someone to love me.
Won't somebody please set me free?
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Comments: 30
It's a true story.
My friend has a violin that's been in his family for decades and he has to part with it. He's the boy in the story. The way his life is now, this fine instrument will get broken or stolen and he wants to find someone who will cherish it and give it full voice. His instrument of choice is the flute, and he is a master.
The pictures don't really do this violin justice, it's so exquisite!
That said, I also adore the fiddle! Grins! Glad I could inspire Carol to sing her instruments! And Jessie, I'm listening to Vivaldi.
Aileen, thank you, Sweetie!
You brought the instrument to life again and again. I loved the way you did that and the warmth of your words. I actually felt it's loneliness. Great piece! My oldest son is a musician and his first love is his trumpet and I could easily tell the tale of that trumpet that seemed to take over near the end...
Now, as a challenge, let's see you do a similar story from the POV of a tuba or sousaphone in rougher language. I promise to read it if you do.
That is quite a challenge. I met the violin the other day and fell in love.... Now I wonder where I would go to meet a tuba? You know, our local musicians put on a tuba christmas every year and it's a sell out! Sousaphone..... Hmmmmm.
Thanks again you all for your kind comments.
My friend is still looking for that special buyer who will love this wonderful instrument. I'll let you know where it ends up so the story can continue.
correction: W. W. Sipes
Thanks for letting her sing once again.
I'm correcting the name right away. Glad you liked it.... Hope you find the right person to buy your treasure and let her shine.
I felt like you were talking directly to me. Thanks for the great piece.
I could listen to Vivaldi all day, and I could hear "your" violin singing it's heart out!!!
I'm so enjoying reading your posts to this.
I've an idea......
And experiment, perhaps...
Let's each ask one person to focus on a great home for this lonely violin.
I'll have Josh keep us posted and when it finds its home, we'll see how close our visions were.
Any takers?
Thanks for the link to that haunting song.
Loved it!