Johnny, as a toddler was always fund of his toy violin. He would usually place it on his shoulder and act as if he was playing a real violin. Since it was a mere toy that made no sound, he will be humming along as he played on it.
His father, Thomas watched him with keen interest. "This boy will play the violin I couldn't play, in addition to his own," he would say, recalling his past effort in trying to learn how to play the violin without success.
"How could someone without the prerequisite patience in following the intricate rules associated with the mastery of violin be able to play one?" His wife, would tease him.
"Don't worry, my boy will play my own part," he would comfort himself.
At 15, Johnny joined the choir, and as expected, was in the violin group where he perfected his act of playing the musical instrument. He was a wonderful sight to watch as he put his left foot forward, occasionally bending his neck forward, backwards and sideways as the music flowed.
As you watched him play, it appeared as if he came out from the womb clutching a violin. He played with so much passion that it was as if the music was coming from his inside; as if he was lost to this world, and catapulted to a realm where music wave flowed visibly in the air; and where nothing else mattered apart from the sound of music.
If you mentioned "The violin boy", everyone knew you were referring to Johnny, as if he was the only one that played violin.
Little wonder the bishop of the diocese singled him out at a music concert for the centenary anniversary, and awarded him a scholarship up to the university level.
