Many have greatly encouraged me to continue to try and play again...but my 'ear' is gone...how I cried (how can one explain this to a non-player) when I first drew the bow...how I wept when I discovered that regardless of my efforts the war had taken something else from me...

Like the warmth of the sun on a spring day, the Cello 'speaks' to the player...like the birds the Cello spreads the joy of life...I hear neither the birds of spring nor can I hear enough of my cello to continue...I will weep when I sell my cello...but is it really mine?...it should after all live longer than I...in that there is joy, for another can bring it to life and share the message...

But a cello is a thing of beauty...not something to gather dust in the corner of a study...it needs a player to sing out...to shout its' message...a message of timeless music...

If this sounds silly or foolish then you have never had and then lost something special...something that is a part of life...something that is beautiful...something to be shared...for me, it was a cello....