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Ago with a love for people who love playing the cello, and love deeply, he wanted to me to marry him, ran to the ring to buy the results of a careless driver I lost to him forever, And you and "love" is the only thing he left me, child, you like him too long, and her mother finally wait
Until you grow up, so I can feel at ease to find him. He looked at the mother’s face in a pool of blood in the beautiful and splendid bloom, their indiscriminate emission tears, he did not have to exercise restraint, because he knew that she was his love, he will never tears. Since then, his eyes more than a
Hint of gray in the dark. Cello mother became the center of his life, work hard every day of the piano, playing into all of his life, as his fame increased, his eyes growing dim, performed around the world every year so that he becomes more lonely, we only sought after but not really concentrate on his fame to understand

Degree of What. Mom likes to sit in the evening twilight of the room covered with gently pulled a similar song, he felt unusual sounds, "Mom, this song is called what?" "It’s called" love "." "It Who is it? "" a true love. "" What is true love? "" a cry for him you people. "sunset every day, my mother
Would play it, he has been naughty Tchen’s sitting next to the journeying of listening, the music, he will be with full of childish voice said: "This is the best in the world to listen to the voice." rush of the stream of time before, he had grown pretty tall and straight boy, every day is the happiest thing in
The evening listening to my mother playing "love", but the mother is not allowing him to learn it, even if he has a cello teacher’s contented pupil. Happy birthday at the end of his 18yearold mother left a "love" of music and a letter, then select the beautiful fall in the high altitude. His trembling open letter: mother 18 years