- - - - - -

"Sister, don't let him hold it, he spoils everything given to him", the little girl warned me.

"Last time, he broke the strings of someone else's guitar." I assume it must be a guitar belonging to another visitor of that home.

I could see disappointment in the little boy's eyes.

If I were to be in his position, I will feel the hurt too. The pain of not being trusted. The pain when someone touches about your past mistake, reminding you that you're bound to repeat it.

Who cares about a broken string. Or six broken strings.Who cares about dropping a guitar. Who cares about scratches.

I decided to let him hold it and pose for a few photos.

His expression?

Priceless.

Little boy, may you become a guitarist one day, and find the joy in not just holding a guitar and posing for a photo with it, but also in making music with it to express what's hidden in your heart. :)

___________

And for everyone who put a lot of effort for today, thanks for the valuable experience. :)