Emotional Prose: A Cannon Carved on the Soul

Canon, my favorite song, also led me into the door of classical music.

Although times have changed, I can't forget the bits and pieces I spent with cannon at that time. Those stories engraved in the depths of my soul with cannons, like the light and shadow of the old days, will stay in a corner of my heart forever, lasting as long as new and never fading.

It's still dark outside the window. In the night, colorful fireworks are looming. Turn on the music, and the melody of cannon overflows your heart and floats to the distant horizon, evoking the permanent memory of the past.

Ten years ago.

"Ducks also want to fly? Don't you find it funny? "

Girl A pressed my piano hand angrily and looked at me with disdain. All her contempt for me showed on her face without reservation.

"You ..." I asked timidly. "Why do you look down on me?"

After listening to my words, girl A seems to be even more angry. She single-handedly broke the piano score I put on the music stand and said, "At your level, you can't play for a lifetime. Don't delay us. Do you know that you are wasting everyone's time? It is best to take the initiative to quit! "

When girl A walked out of the piano room, she deliberately stepped on the piano paper scattered on the ground with her feet. At that moment, my heart broke.

Looking at girl A's arrogant back, I couldn't help crying, while picking up the music with footprints on the ground, leaving lingering scars in my heart.

I once thought, is it really not suitable for learning the piano, and is it really impossible to play the cannon forever? Many times, I want to give up, but as long as the melody of Canon rings in my ear, I am deeply infatuated and can't give up.

In those days when nobody cares, I always keep my poor little dream alone, telling myself over and over again that one day, I will definitely play the "Canon" I expected in my heart.

In countless dead of night nights, when I tirelessly finished practicing the piano, I got up and came to the windowsill, looking up at the twinkling stars embedded in the night sky, my heart was all involved and I trembled.

The next day, I never dared to see girl A again, or even go to the piano room to practice. When the teacher asked me why I didn't attend the rehearsal on time, I was speechless. I dare not tell the teacher that I was pushed out by girl A. I am too weak.

Girl A is the president of the Music Club and the chief violinist, and I am just a temporary piano player. I may not even qualify for the upcoming classical music competition.

Girl A is so excellent, who can listen to me? All the grievances, I have to dust in my heart, a person silently bear.

In this way, I was criticized by the teacher in the music class, laughed at and excluded by my classmates, and once lost my determination to participate in the classical music competition, and even lost my courage to play the piano. I silently withdrew from the piano room, and I was walking alone in the cold and silent street with the music score of "Cannon", and my heart ached.

It was winter, and the cold north wind blew up the fallen leaves on the ground. My heart swayed with Ye Er, and even the steps wrapped in skirts were messy.

With a sad heart, I walked to the old man playing the piano on the street corner. I can't remember how many times I have been here. It seems that as long as I am in a bad mood, I want to see him play the piano.

The old man is playing the piano selflessly, with no audience and no applause. The melody flowing at the fingertips is far and near. In the cold wind of winter, it is a little cold, but it makes the tired heart feel a little warm.

He is my only friend. Although I have never met him, maybe some feelings are like this. Everything is in music, and we get messages from each other. We looked at each other, not strangers, but like long-lost friends

I once wrote a sentence: people always cry and always feel sad, but there must be someone who will give you a compass when you are lost and let you go out of your own way. In my heart, the old man who plays the piano is.

Standing by the piano, listening to the old man playing the piano, wrapped in a thin skirt, let the wind blow out his hair and his sad mood.

At the end of the song, the old man threw me a warm smile and immediately asked, "Little girl, didn't you practice the piano today?"

I looked at him with a heavy heart, and the scene of being accused by girl A flashed in my mind like lightning. I can't help shedding sad tears and crying in pain. It feels like a wronged child was suddenly sheltered by an elder.

The old man got up slowly, walked beside me, and then dragged me to sit on the piano stool. He didn't ask anything, just patted me on the shoulder and hugged my hair that was messed up by the wind.

After a long silence, I finally choked up and asked, "Why am I different from others? Why can't I always play the cannon well? Am I stupid? "

I looked at him, tears streaming down my face, as if all the grievances I had been bullied for a long time were released at that moment.

The old man still patted me on the shoulder enthusiastically and said, "Why do you have to be like others?" You are you. You are unique in this world. No matter what you have experienced, don't sell yourself short! "

"But …" I paused and said, "I can't play the cannon well."

I sobbed and my heart was cold.

The old man comforted me and said, "Music is alive. Every piece of music needs you to feel life again, and so does cannon. Close your eyes, feel with your heart, interpret with your heart, and you will see music. "

I wiped away my sad tears with my hand and asked softly, "Is it true?"

"Of course!" The old man continued: "As long as you persist and play with your heart, you can still find your own way, and you don't need to be like others. That's the real you, the unique you. "

When the old man finished, he closed his eyes slightly, with a happy smile on his face, and everything was so peaceful. I learned to look like an old man and closed my eyes gently. It was dark and the whole world was silent.

At this time, the old man began to play "Cannon" on the piano keys. The melody is soft, with a little sadness, immersed in the depths of the soul, and all the noise and distractions have disappeared.

I touch the keys with my fingers. In the melody of Canon, I felt the breath of life in music for the first time, and my heart became brighter and brighter. The rhythm of the soul gave me unprecedented strength and let me see the dazzling light in my life. ......

After two days, I still got up the courage to go to the rehearsal room again. When I walked into the piano room carefully, girl A deliberately came over and knocked out the book in my hand. I picked up the music, but she grabbed it and threw it in mid-air.

It pains me to watch pages of music falling in the air. I looked at girl A angrily and wanted to say something.

Girl A yelled at me first: "What? Unhappy? " She said contemptuously and left.

I didn't speak, and I was despised by others alone. I started to go to the piano and play Canon with my heart. It seems that only in Cannon's melody can I get a little warm comfort. The date of the classical music competition is coming, but my mood is very depressed.

After practicing the piano, I silently took to the street and came to the corner where the old man played the piano. He was still playing the piano. When he saw me coming, he changed it to Canon. The melody touched my heart inexplicably.

When he finished playing, I timidly stepped forward and asked, "Can I play the piano with you?"

At first, the old man was a little surprised, but he quickly smiled and replied, "of course, as long as you like!" "

I smiled. I was so happy. I've never been so happy. From then on, I will sit on the street corner and play the piano with this old man every day. No matter whether it rains or blows, I will not stop.

He never taught me how to play the piano, only told me that music is alive and must be felt with heart. Those days were the greatest encouragement and happiness in the world for a weak girl in my life.

The next day, I went to the piano room as usual, but girl A refused to play the violin for me. As always, she accused me of being poor and threatened to find a new piano player to replace me. The other students in the music class also ignored me. I became a completely lonely girl and got used to being alone.

Many days later, whenever I want to give up, whenever I cry for it, I will think of the old man playing the piano on the street corner, and gradually, my mood will be relieved.

Nearly a month before the classical music competition, I walked to the rehearsal room with my music score and looked at the poster with my name "Ye Feifei" printed on the publicity column. My heart has been restless for a long time.

I gently touched the poster with my hand, and I burst into tears of joy in an instant, shedding extremely touching tears.

I don't know when girl A and other students passed by, so girl A came over and smashed my body. My hands are shaking and my music is scattered all over the floor.

I looked at girl A, but she still said disdainfully, "What are you looking at? You're just lucky. Do you really think you can get on the stage of the classical music competition? Idiot! "

After that, a girl laughed at me with other students and left.

Nearly two weeks before the Classical Music Competition, the teacher announced the final entry list. I am lucky to be chosen again. At that time, I wanted to tell the good news to the old man who played the piano on the street corner for the first time. However, when I rushed to the corner, I found that there was no old man there except an old piano.

Maybe girls have a sixth sense. An ominous shadow flashed through my mind. I think something must have happened to the old man Because, in the two years I studied piano, the old man never left that corner. I looked for the old man like crazy, asking people everywhere, wondering where the old man was.

However, no one knows the exact whereabouts of the old man and can only get an answer. It was a wandering old man. Maybe he died somewhere one night in winter.

I was so anxious that I cried. I cried so badly that I squatted on the ground with my back against the piano until my tears dried up. The cool wind blew through the dirty skirt and messed up the long hair that the old man had touched. My heart is desolate.

Passers-by looked at me curiously, and some even said to me lovingly, "Girl, it's so cold, go back quickly and don't freeze."

I stood up silently and staggered home with heavy steps. When I walked into the house, my mother saw me so down and out and thought I was bullied by some boy. I haven't spoken for a long time. When she was in a hurry to sign up for J, I stopped to tell her that I was fine.

That night, I lost sleep and felt sad, for an unknown old man and for an old man who gave me warmth in life.

Many years later, I wondered if my road to classical music would have ended long ago if I hadn't met this old man. If I didn't get his encouragement and inspiration, would I really never be able to play with cannons?

I was lucky to meet him, but he was not as lucky as me. He left quietly without the warmth of this world.

Why is the world so cruel? Why did such a kind old man die in the most tragic way in the last days of his life without the care of his family, even being mercilessly ignored?

The night before the classical music competition, I finally got the news that the old man died in an accident a few days ago. At that moment, I burst into tears and my heart was broken.

When I dragged my tired body, I silently walked to the corner where the old man played the piano. I saw from a distance that the shabby piano looked so cold and lonely in that faint light.

The roof of the shed erected in the corner was blown open by the wind, and the rain scraped around on the piano, which was particularly bleak. There is nothing around, and a few withered trees stand coldly, guarding the desolate street corner.

I cried again!

Finally, regardless of the rain on the piano bench, I sat alone on it, propped up the piano cover, and then stroked black and white keys with my hands over and over again, shedding cold tears. The rain wet my skirt, the raindrops from the sky soaked my hair and body, and the cold wind set off a sad cry.

I closed my eyes, thinking of the old man's warm smile, and pressed my fingers to the keys.

A song "Collection" flows slowly from the fingertips, with great sadness and great attachment to the elderly, drifting in the cold wind and rain. The crying of the keys has become a permanent memory of the warm and kind old man. ......

Classical music competition, I arrived at the last minute. When I went in, girl A had just finished the game. She is holding a violin and making a curtain call. The judges in the audience also showed high scores, and the audience cheered.

However, I didn't pay attention to these again, and I didn't look at girl A again. I dragged my white skirt and walked to the center of the stage. I was silent for a long time, and I couldn't help but see the kind smile of the old man.

I smiled at him and bowed deeply. Then, I sat on the piano stool, as the old man told me, slowly closed my eyes, stroked black and white keys with my fingers and pressed it gently. ......

My repertoire was changed to the piano solo Canon, because no one wanted to accompany me, but nothing mattered. When the melody flows from my fingertips, the whole world disappears and the world is calm.

In the melody of Cannon, the old man walked slowly facing the sunshine, with a kind smile, so warm and brilliant. I ran to him with a skirt in my hand. Green grass glides on my toes, white clouds wave to me, birds are singing softly, and everything is happy and peaceful.

I'm trying my life. So I can really see music.

I will not live up to the old man's expectations, and I will continue the warmth and kindness he left to the world. I also believe that I can still play my own unique music as long as I stick to my dream.

Even if I am the only one flying solo in the world, I can still fly solo crazily. Don't give up, don't give up, no matter whether I succeed or not, I can get applause of approval, and it is also my brightest star.

When my piano solo Canon finished, the audience was silent for a long time. Finally, the applause lasted for a long time until I stepped off the stage.

Perhaps, everyone will encounter unexpected difficulties and setbacks in the process of pursuing their dreams, but please believe in yourself, keep smiling and move forward step by step.

Perhaps, everyone will be laughed at and despised by others, but please don't sell yourself short because of this, and let yourself have the courage to face the future.

Life, at any time, no matter what kind of adversity you have experienced, you must say to yourself: "I can!" " "

Now, Canon has become music engraved in my soul, and I will never forget it! I only hope that every effort will bring my own light at some point in the future.

I would like to give this document to those who struggle for their dreams!