My violin is like a soulmate that whispers words of wisdom to me. Together, we've gone through both tears and happiness.
About 12 years ago, I made acquaintance with it following an order from my mom. Many hours of boredom were spent practicing it. And to make things worse, the disappointment in my teacher's eyes as I played the wrong notes was like an invisible hammer, striking on my heart. One day, I finally decided: I hate it!
By chance, things changed when I was seven. I was at home lying on the sofa, wondering how those famous violinists dealt with this terrible dilemma(进退两难). I searched online for the E-minor Concerto, a well-known violin work by German composer Felix Mendelssohn, and listened to it.
A beautiful and mysterious sound came from the violin as the bow moved across it. It was like the music slid over the flowers, rose up, and started to fill the air. The violin's voice woke up the sun, made the trees green, and freshened the air. As the music changed, the sky turned back to gray. A gloomy shade covered the grass as all the sunshine disappeared. I could hear children crying and men shouting. It was like an invisible claw(爪子)had grabbed my heart tightly, making it unable to beat.
That glorious day set off my passion and interest in violin — I grabbed mine and never let it go. Before the memories faded, I stared at my instrument. Without hesitating, I picked it up, rosined the bow, and began to play. Peace filled my heart.
My violin has been by my side for 12 years. When I feel happy, an energetic tune makes it even better; when I'm deep in sorrow, a peaceful tune washes it away； when I'm walking on air, feeling especially pleased with my achievements, solemn tunes calm me down. Gradually, it has become a part of my life.
My violin, shall I compare you to a summer's day?
