DON GRILLO, THE MUSICIAN

The winds played until they reached the river, shaking the drops of dew on the trees and grass. With great pleasure, the buttons of clovers saluted the cricket.

Don Grillo said, "I will begin to play my music." But he spent more time thinking about it than doing it.

He started off through the plants, happily dancing with graceful jumps. How it pleased him! The cricket had not known until then that the slight winds made such good companions in the game.

Just then, he stepped on a round pebble and fell onto a pile of high grass.

"Careful, cricket!" said a little voice above his head. "Go on a safe path!"

"Why don't you use your wings when you jump?" asked the wind to the cricket.

"Certainly I am not very good at flying," said the cricket. "But there is something I know how to do very well. Would you like me to delight you with my music?"

"Yes, yes!" said the wind. "I would like very much to hear you."

Then the cricket knelt down and rubbed its back legs against one another and there was a beautiful sound that resembled the musical sounds of the harp. His chords brought forth melodies that filled the air with murmurs.

"I direct my orchestra," said the cricket, "and occasionally the light of the Moon plays and dances.

At this very moment, my band waits amongst the meadow full of daisies so that when they gather tonight the insects can play for the very important festival that celebrates the nocturnal butterflies."

Then the cricket whistled and immediately the entire small but skillful orchestra seated among the daisies and began to play the sweetest melody.

Marco Abarca, 2008