parents gave me a violin for my thirteenth birthday. I never knew that
it would be the most treasured gift of my life. It took awhile to
arrive, but I was patient. After the violin came, I was so excited that
my hands were trembling. I took out the case and, bit-by-bit, opened my
violin case. I gasped at how beautiful it was. The dark, ruby red tone
of the wood and the flames, like tiger stripes, gleamed in the
brightness. I picked it up and immediately fell in love with it, and I
knew that it was going to be cherished. That present was not an
ordinary one, but an extraordinary present.
My dad asked me to try it out, so I picked up my bow, which was also
very gorgeous, and started to tune. Even if it was out of tune, I could
still hear the soft, sweet, and melancholy sound that flowed gently
through my ears. I tuned it, and started to play my favorite, and also
in my opinion, the saddest song, the song from Titanic. The melancholic sound was definitely standing out, and it moved me very much.
The violin tells me about its journey. Even though it was made in
2001, the wood was from China and was adjusted in Ann Arbor. Questions
went through my mind: Which wood did it come from? For how long was the
wood aged? The maker of this violin did a fabulous job, working with
only his hands. He created colors of sadness, happiness, sweetness, and
softness in the violin. I could release them all with just one stroke
of the bow.
My life reflects with the violin. One song made by the violin is
equal to a year in my age. As the violin plays more songs, it gets more
mature in tone, as I get more mature myself.
The red violin will be with me the rest of my life. Though I will
have to let it go someday, it will be the most treasured gift of my
Edited for clarity.