“Of course, Hans,”she replied, “but hurry back before the Maestro takes his place on the stage.”
“Yes, mother,” Hans answered and hurried off. At the carriage Hans reached underneath the seat and pulled out a long box. He held it closely and looked skyward, noticing for the first time in a while how many stars glistened overhead. At that very moment a shooting star burned quickly across the Heavens, displaying a life of a brilliant, narrow fire that sparkled in its glory and within a blink of an eye was lost forever except to those like Hans who were witness to its brief but monumental existence. “I understand, father,” Hans whispered softly to himself, then quickly returned to this mother's side. She noticed the box he now carried but said nothing. She knew that if it was important enoug
