haibun
A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
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March 2007, vol 3 no 1

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Origa

Mother's Day

As a winner of a flute competition, my son was invited to perform with New Mexico Symphony as a guest soloist. The concert is scheduled on the Mother's Day. It is one of the free "neighborhood concerts". There are about seven thousand people in the wide meadow surrounded by large sycamore trees in the city's zoo. A huge orchestra shell is outlined with a lovely pond. It's a splendid spring day, Sunday. The program consists of mostly romantic pieces, interspersed with some impressive Indian music.

The concert starts with a short introduction speech by the conductor who tells about the music and then about the guest soloist. Sasha stands on stage with the orchestra. After telling the audience about where Sasha is from, where he studied, and how he came to the US, Maestro stretches his hand out to the auditorium and says that Sasha's mom is here today, so let's congratulate her on this day on having raised such a wonderful son. Thousands people applaud, my friends force me to rise and wave my hand to the audience. Then, the music begins.

Listening to the orchestra and to Sasha playing, I suddenly feel a lump in my throat. A memory strikes . . . When he was born, the doctor told me: "Don't hope too much that he will live."

Beautiful romantic music floats from the stage. A white swan swims out on the surface of the pond, and gracefully passes by on his way to the other end.

shifting wind outside . . .
the fairy tale "Ugly Duckling"
I read to grandson