A friend, a fiddle, and a whole lotta love

My dear friend Jane visited us recently, all the way from the hot and dry oven known as Phoenix. Ya'll may remember her as the astoundingly talented fiddler at our wedding. (Being as modest as she is, she would never say that, but it's true.)

One morning I asked Jane if she could hang out with Graham, read him a book or two, while I showered. Instead she said, "I'd like to play the violin for him." So she dusted off my great-grandmother's (Pauline Avrutis) violin, tuned it up, and made it sing.

Then Jane began teaching Graham how to hold the bow, where the "frog" is, and how to make a sound with the bow on the violin's strings. He concentrated so hard on moving that bow just so!

As I heard all this from upstairs, my eyes welled with tears. There was something so special about hearing the interaction between my good friend, my sweet, sweet son, and this beautiful violin that holds some of his great-great-grandmother's spirit from long ago. Now that's beauty.