When I realized that life was beautiful and worth living was perhaps when I was least ready for it. I pride myself on always being alert for the cool stories in life, but this was unexpected. I was in New York City, late at night, and cold. I was angry at my sister and brother for God knows what reason, probley trying to convince me that it was my fault we took the wrong subway and was stuck somewhere in the Soho. When I was busy being angry, a violin started playing right around the corner of a big brick thing. I looked around to see a little Japanese man playing his heart out. His eyes were closed and looked like he was in heaven. I quickly looked around at the other people to see if they also were looking at this slice of humanity. Looking at pure beauty and everything good. No one was looking at him. I was so angry at the subway people; couldn’t they see this man was reaching out to them? It wasn’t till later on when I was trying to sleep, did I remember the faces of the people of the subway. They weren’t embarrassed or trying to look away. They were happy, content. It was as if I could open every person’s soul and see that they were paying attention to this man as if it were the concert of his life. When I think of the memory, I don’t know what song he was playing or the how cold I was or even why I was mad at my family. I just remember being happy. That life still had meaning and people still paid attention. I believe that beauty still exists. I believe that the beautiful is something that is always hand printed on my heart and makes me ultimately happy. I believe that if I try hard enough to look closer, moments like this one will never be rare. This is Believe.
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