More than one, argued it was merely in his blood, as if that explained it all quite satisfactorily…
Since he was still a very young child, Cipriano, had displayed an intense love towards music. Whenever he heard a note, a song or a melody… he would immediately listen, fully concentrated and abstracted. In particular, he exhibited a special affinity towards the piano. He would spend hours during the mornings, quietly listening to his mother, as she practiced in her parlour. It seemed, he had inherited his mother’s talents, though these had multiplied in the child.
It was barely past his fifth birthday, when one afternoon, his mother surprised him while he was at the piano. He was playing a very simple, but exquisitely beautiful melody. Astonished, she froze in her tracks, as she observed him, while attentively listening to the music. She found it difficult to believe that it was actually her son, who was sitting at the piano and playing so naturally.
She felt a shiver run down her back, as she silently followed the music in her mind. When he finished playing the song, Cipriano paused for a moment without realizing that his mother was in the back of the parlour. Unable to restrain her emotions, she began to applaud, in a most heartfelt standing ovation.
“Bravo! Bravisimo!”
“But, Cipriano, that was so beautiful! I love it! Whoever taught you how to play that melody, and tell me, who wrote it? I have never heard it before!”, she fired the questions away, one after another, still feeling a bit dazed.
“Who wrote it? I don’t think anybody has written it, yet. Who taught me, Mother? I just learned by myself, I guess. You know? It was just there… Like the colours that appear when you close your eyes, they just happen to be there! It’s a happy tune, don’t you think?”, he answered, thoughtfully.
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