once upon a time there lived a boy, on the top of a perfectly rounded mountain. he
lived alone in a small wooden cabin. no one knew his name, or where he came from,
but everyone knew of him. in fact, the boy probably had no name, for there was no
one to call him by that name. sometimes a cat or a squirrel came to visit him, and
he kept them company. all the forest animals thought he was a nice boy, and good
company, yet they all knew that he was different from the others.
in the morning, the bright sun would shine on the beautiful mountain (which was
more of a hill than a mountain really). sunshine would go through the window, and
into the room waking up in its way millions of creatures from the black night and into
the bright morning, eventually landing on the little boy's nose. "tickle, tickle," the
boy feels. he opens a pair of big blue eyes, and with a sweet angle's voice he says:
"good morning life! how are you today? ". he expects no verbal answer, but
he knows this will be a good morning from the very fact that it is morning.
and now he's out, standing on the thick green grass of his mountain, stretching his
chest as he inhales the cool morning air. he walks calmly down the sunny side of the
mountain to reach the stream that lay down there. he has brought a wooden cup with
him and now he fills it with the clear cold water of the stream. now he runs back up
with the water in his hand keeping it all inside the cup.
he holds his golden paintbrush, dips it in the clear water, takes a little bit of blue
from the sky, and draws blue on the canvas. he dips again in the water, takes a bit of green
from the grass and adds it into the picture. in this picture he could see everything.
there was water, and there were plants, and animals, just like the mountain.
from behind the trees next to him, he hears a sound gentler than the songs of birds,
more lovely than the sight of a blossoming flower. so excited is the little boy that he
feels he could fly to the sun that very moment! and as he turned around, he sees a
pretty girl, holding a flute in her hands. the sounds must be coming from the flute.
how has he failed to hear such sounds before?
she takes the flute out of her mouth ("the lovely sounds have stopped! " thinks the
little boy). the girl sees the picture he is painting. "hello! " she says, as the boy
stares at her astonished. "what are you doing here? " asks the girl. the boy is a little
confused, can't she see the beautiful picture he has already made?! the girl, who sees
that she won't get any answer from him, returns to her flute. again the boy feels the
sensation he only felt a moment ago. he rides the sunbeams and sees the whole world
under him, as the tune carries him upwards. he didn't want it to stop, but he could
hear it fading away, as he descended and eventually landed back where he was,
his paintbrush in his hand. he could not forget what had just happened. he had to return
to those sounds, he knew they were stronger than anything he had ever known.
the boy goes back to his cabin, puts his paintbrush down, and thinks what he should
do. "i shall build myself a flute! " he decides, eager to return to the lovely sounds.
and all that day, morning through the afternoon, he worked. no painting, but carving
his flute. and indeed the colors were starting to disappear from the world, as evening
was falling.
and the boy holds his new flute; thrilled with excitement he stands in the blackness of
the night. he blows into the flute as strong as he can, using all of his air. he expected
to hear the lovely sounds that the girl was making, but what a dreadful sound came out! he
felt as if a sharp knife was shoved into his stomach.
now he tries again, this time he puts in all his sadness and feeling. but again the poor
boy heard a horrible sound, the likes of which no one had ever heard, nor will anyone
ever hear again. it must have wakened everyone within miles around.
the little boy's heart was broken. he fell down on the gray grass, and cried so sadly
as anyone had ever cried. then he took his golden paintbrush, and with his sadness,
he took a little red from his broken heart, and he took a little yellow from his sadness,
and a little blue from his crying blue eyes, and he painted all the colors of himself
onto the world.
at that moment, millions of sunbeams went their way to a perfectly rounded
mountain, and spread light all over: on the grass, and on the trees, and on a
wooden cabin that stands empty on the top of a beautiful mountain. and that morning,
the sky was filled with all the colors f a broken hearted young boy, and a little girl
was looking at the sky and playing a special tune on her flute.
epilogue
once there was a boy, who painted the colors of the world, who let the sun shine on in
the morning. and one day, that boy met music, and he saw that beauty should be
shown to the whole world.
once there was a boy who would be a rainbow.
|