Sound Story

In the back of an old workshop in Basel, Switzerland, there lived an old man with his granddaughter, Sabine. He was jolly and reminded all who knew him of Saint Nicolas. His beard was white and his gentle hands were calloused from hard work. He had spent his whole life making clocks out of the finest and purest woods: mahogany, pine, maple, etc. His little bright-eyed granddaughter helped him in his shop, dusting and setting the right times.
“Großvater,” she asked him, “can you make me a Pinocchio like Gepetto?”
“Nein,” he replied with a twinkle, “I only make clocks. They are far more beautiful than a little wooden boy, and far less trouble.”
Sabine, although she loved her grandfather and his clocks dearly, could not understand how a simple wooden clock could be more beautiful than a walking, talking playmate.
“One day, my little choux-fleur, you will see and hear the magic of the clocks. You must wait, for I am not yet ready with my symphony.”

A few months later, the clockmaker told Sabine that he had a surprise for her.
“Bella bimba, I’ve finished! My masterpiece is complete! I’ve filled my shop with cuckoo clocks, all made from my own hands.”
It was a dark and rainy night, but it was full of hope and promise. Sabine sat on the counter, dusty with wood chip shavings, and waited for the clocks to announce midnight.
A little white bird peeped out of its hole and then, with a burst of sound, the other birds followed. A thousand different creatures with colored voices were singing in harmony. Little men dressed in green were coming out of their bavarian houses and saluting their sheep. Birds of every color were creating sounds of pure joy.
Sitting behind her, the director looked at his orchestra with tears in his eyes. He was seeing the most beautiful thing in the world.





*This story made my mom cry, which I view as the greatest complement despite the fact that it is quite easy to make her cry. *