Where is the Music Coming From

The children were playing in the streets, screaming and shouting excitedly, when they heard it. It was a gentle, lilting melody carrying far on the wind. They all stopped what they were doing and searched for its source.

“Where’s the music coming from?”

They followed the enchanting tune, stopping momentarily before each house, though without luck. It was a long journey, but as they neared the last house on the edge of the forest, they were confident they’d found the source.

The house was an old, weathered building, yet still in one piece after centuries, and from its very heart came the music.

The children creaked the front door open and entered with mild trepidation. Though they knew they shouldn’t have gone in, their curiosity got the better of them.

As they ventured through the house, traveling up stairways and down halls, they found themselves drawing nearer to the source.

It was a single man, standing in the attic of the house, playing away on a simple wooden violin. Yet as the children joined him, they seemed to find themselves drawn into another world. The instrument and its delightful music filled their minds with joy, showing them beauty they had never known before.

There was no sign of the rambunctiousness from before, no screaming and shouting, as they sat respectfully to admire the man as he worked his magic.

As the music wound down, the children found themselves yearning, yet when the man gave his final bow, they voiced no complaints. After all, they had been shown that music could open their minds.

“Let it be known, children, that music can take you places you’ve never been before.”