My walk home after work tonight was completely different to yesterday’s.
As I made my way, I had to pass by Roy Thomson Hall. As I approached the hall, I heard the sound of Ave Maria drifting through the air, and I could see an old Chinese guy across the street from me, playing this beautiful hymn on a clarinet, playing it to one side, as the rush hour traffic passed him by.
His rendition was almost flawless. The tune was so good that I crossed the street and gave him all the change I had in my pocket.
He bowed in thanks as he continued to play. The closer I was to him, the sweeter the music was to me.
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I was born in England, spent