A Piece Worth Remembering

     I was walking down the bustling street of Germany, currently on my way to a trusted music shop called Bonn's Music. It was a fine day, really. I was rushing, eager to get my hands on the piece I'm going to play in the International Music Competition in Munich two days from now. I was planning of playing Tritesse of Chopin but my views changed. Things as well as my fate changed the moment I lifted my gaze from my watch and shifted to an enigmatic person standing beside me, who was waiting as well for the traffic light turn red. He was standing beside me, his gaze fixed on my destination; Bonn's Music. He wore such a sad face that my heart clenched for the man. He was obviously staring at the grand piano located inside the shop, sitting just in front of the glass window. His mouth opened, struggling to say something but closed it immediately. I tried my hardest to ignore him. To calm myself down, I glanced at him. Everything slowed down from then. Cold sweat rolled from my forehead. My blood drained. Adrenaline surged through my veins and I was able to pull the man I was observing from harms way.
  "Geez, Mister! You scared me. The lights are still green," I scolded.
   The anger left immediately when he looked at me and smiled, loneliness evident on his face. I helped him cross the streets.I turned to proceed on my way when he called me.
  "Young lady, will you please accompany me for an afternoon tea. A token of my thanks?" he asked as he pointed on a cafe beside the music shop.
  I couldn't say no. No, i will not refuse, not to an old soul like him. So I gladly accepted the offer. We sat there quietly. Enjoying the scent of pastries, tea and coffee.
 "My name is Kristel, a music student. And you are?" I asked. I cannot stand the eerie silence that was surrounding us.
 "I cannot hear you," he smiled sadly. "My hearing was taken from me. I am Ludwig Van Beethoven, a pianist."
 "Oh, so that's why he was staring at the piano," I mused to myself.
I frowned. If he is a pianist, and he is deaf, then...
 He seem to grasp what I was thinking and smiled sadly, again. We sat there for a moment of silence.
"I'm afraid I must go," I said. I rose from my seat and he did so, a true gentleman he is. "Thank you"
   I gave him a warm smile. Judging from his expression, he understood what I said. I waved him goodbye and proceeded to the music shop beside the cafe. I picked up piece I'm going to play and went to the music hall in town, where I got a ticket for a piano recital of a famous pianist. I remembered the old man, the one named Beethoven.
  Minutes later, I saw the music hall and entered. I gave the ticket to the man guarding the door and he waved me inside. Good thing my seat is in front of the stage. As I was settling down. I remembered what's written on my ticket. Ludwig Van Beethoven.
 "He's going to play?" I murmured.
 Sure enough, the recital started and the curtains lifted. There, he sat lonely at piano at the middle of the stage. He played a piece that seem to be his 9th Symphony. His music is amazing that after his premiere, the hall erupted into loud claps and cheer. I was one of them. But he remained seated. I saw someone approached him and helped him stood up and face us.
   The moment he saw us, cheering for him, congratulating him and clapping for him, his eyes was filled with big fat tears. I remembered. He can't hear it. He can't hear his own music anymore. Soon, my cheeks were kissed by an identical tear. And there at the music hall, I wept for the man in front of me. A man whose  identity was robbed by his illness.