The Violin, France 1953

The holiday season was upon them. They were in agreement that Luc would go home with Jean Marc for the holiday leaving Paris behind. Words had been left unsaid but Luc knew Jean Marc was trying to cheer him up a bit.

They had purchased some Santa hats at the station shop as they waited for their journey to begin. There was a sadness in Luc’s eyes that the joy of the season hadn’t touched but Jean Marc was hopeful that he could bring back the man he used to know.

They settled into their train car seats, 4 to a row separated by the aisle. While they weren’t first class, they were roomy for the just over 5 hour trip to Marseilles.

The two men were good friends and jostled each other about, chuckling at the inane words spoken by the other.

The first leg of their journey took them from Paris to Lyon where they had a 30 minute layover to get a snack and walk about. The trip would just be 2 hours more from there.

They hadn’t paid much attention to the boy in their row clutching what appeared to be a violin case but Jean Marc, on the aisle, had noticed the girl across from him also on the aisle. They had chatted off and on about the holiday traditions and where they were headed. She was actually from Jean Marc’s hometown of Marseilles but toward the mountains as opposed to his family’s home near the water on the Côte d’Azur.

The first leg was pleasant enough but Luc seemed a little more agitated as they walked briskly around the station after consuming a shared baguette and cheese with Anna Marie from the train. As they began to queue to board again, Jean Marc felt a tap on his arm, it was the young boy who sat beside Anna Marie.

“ Monsieur, would you like to trade me seats?” Jean Marc didn’t think Luc would appreciate the desertion but then his eyes caught the violin case.

“C’est bon! Oui, let’s do it!”

He turned to Luc and said, “You wouldn’t deny your brother-in-arms the opportunity to sit with the lovely lady would you? This young man is offering to switch seats with me.”

A loving punch on the shoulder and a chuckle freed Jean Marc to pursue some time with Anna Marie.

As they settled in their seats Luc extended his hand and said, “I’m Luc and you are?”

The boy shifted his case and extended his hand saying he was Jean Claude, but he could call him JC. Reluctantly JC released Luc’s hand. They made small talk about their destinations as the other passengers settled and the the conductor announcements were made.

As the train began to move JC turned to Luc and said, “Would you play my violin?”

Luc was mildly shocked and a bit annoyed asking why he thinks he could play a violin. The boy was such a serious lad. “Please sir, won’t you play my violin.” Was his reply.

Luc just sat their staring into the boy’s ocean green eyes. JC turned away and gently opened the case and gingerly lifted the violin out and handed it to Luc. He then released the bow and offered it to Luc.

“I know who you are sir. It would be my great privilege to have you play my father’s violin. I haven’t heard it played well since he last played it.”

Luc took the violin bow and tested it on the strings making a few adjustments though his fingers moved cautiously, slowly. The sound was clear even though he only lightly touched the strings. Luc was aware this wasn’t an ordinary violin. He lifted it to look more closely, a Stradivarius, of course.

“Who was your father?”

JC let a smile come to his lips, “The Master. Please sir, will you play it.”

Luc told him he hadn’t played in a while to offer him grace. The boy nodded with a knowing look.

Luc softly began to play Edelweiss. As those near him recognized the song some shouted, “louder.”

He raised the volume a little more and finished the song. All those around applauded and asked for more. He played another short Christmas tune to the delight of the passengers who had followed it with more applause.

The conductor came to their row and said, “those in the front wondered if you could play louder. Perhaps you could stand in the gap and play.”

Those around him encouraged him to do so and the boy smiled the most radiant smile yet. He was hesitant but finally agreed.

Luc walked to the front and began to play. He captivated the people in the car as he got lost in his music. He swayed and moved freely with each tune that bled into next. The passengers were enthralled and stopped conversations, knitting, and reading. Many closed their eyes as this man became one with the violin.

He played on, so lost in the music he didn’t hear the conductor open the passageway doors to the cars in front and behind.

He had tears rolling down his cheeks as he played the Hallelujah chorus from the Messiah and he missed the thing he was dreading, the town where his young wife had died last Christmas and was buried. The train rushed right on by.

He felt the train begin to slow and came out of his reverie and brought his playing to an end with Silent Night. Exhausted and yet so at peace he dropped his head and smiled as the passengers slowly began to clap and cheer. He returned to his row and to two empty seats, save a violin case laying open.

His buddy, Jean Marc, got up and bear hugged him congratulating him.

He grinned and then lost his smile when he asked, “Where’s JC?”

Jean Marc patted him on the chest. “Here buddy. Here. In your heart.”

“What?!”

I don’t know Luc. He leaned over to me at one point and said, “Tell him the violin is his.” I was so caught up in your playing I didn’t see him move.”

“Mine. The violin is mine?”

The passengers were starting to disembark. Luc carefully packed up the violin and went in search of the conductor while watching for JC. He asked the conductor if he saw what happened to the boy. The conductor asked for his name.

“JC he said. I believe it stood for Jean Claude. I didn’t get a surname.”

“The conductor skimmed down his roster. I don’t have a Jean Claude. Where was he sitting?”

“Next to me. Well he started across the aisle so his assigned seat would have been there.”

“No that can’t be right, sir. That seat was empty according to my chart.”

Luc was skeptical but Jean Marc who was there on his heels laughed and said, “it is a Christmas miracle! ‘JC’, of course.”

Luc moved to the entrance. “Of course what?”

They disembarked and moved away from the train with Luc still scanning the crowd for Jean Claude.

Anna Marie who had stayed with Jean Marc spoke up. “It is a Marseilles tradition that miracles happen at Christmastime with sightings of Jesus in different forms. We call it The Rebirth.”

Jean Marc nodded and said, “Oui, He has appeared as an old fisherman at the docks, as a priest at the Basilica, even a teenager at a local preparatory. What else did he tell you?”

Luc looked up toward the ceiling, “He said his father was The Master. He didn’t say, ‘a master’, he said, ‘The Master.” He looked back at Jean Marc and Anna Marie who both had a look of awe and a smile on their faces.

Anna Marie quietly said, “We have been blessed.”

Luc held all this in his heart and reflected on everything that had transpired. He had hadn’t played his violin since his wife had passed last Christmas from cancer. He had so dreaded this trip knowing they would pass the station of her hometown where she died and was buried. He hadn’t been back and wasn’t ready to go back. But now, now He felt restored. Yes, he still ached from his loss but that weight that wanted to suffocate him at times was gone. He didn’t know if he bought into the story of The Rebirth but he had to admit his heart felt renewed, reborn. He was ready to celebrate Christmas and he was beyond blessed with his new violin. He knows there are precise records of Stradivarius purchases but he doubted this one would be easy to find. Maybe someday he would pursue that path but for now he would celebrate Christmas with new found joy.