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Chapter 9 - Gethsemane.Right in the middle of our work in Mexico, I was once again called away by Fred, for another mission. This time I was send to Canada. Fred called it, "an urgent mission." That was all that he revealed. He said that the rest was classified. He told me that I would be contacted in three days in Vancouver, at the University's Chan Center for Music, after the evening concert. "A ticket has been reserved in your name. Don't miss the concert!" he said. "A lot depends on you being there," he added. The mystery became instantly clear when I arrived at the concert hall. The concert was performed by a Norwegian quartet. Mozart, Brahms, and Schubert were on the agenda. The violinist, according to the poster was Olive Osipov. I looked at my watch, it was seven thirty. I could imagine Fred grinning, as he probably realized that I realized, whom I was to meet. Just about then, the cell phone rang. Fred just laughed and laughed. "So you made it in time for a change," he said and laughed once more. After that, he became serious. "Peter, you are not there for a picnic. You are there for an urgent mission. Don't forget that!" As for myself, my focus was on Olive for the next three hours. This time, I could feel that she was playing for me. They all were. Sylvia's singing came to mind, when we first met. I had been at every one of her performances. Now, I felt the same again. I fell in love with her all over again through Olive's music, through her playing for me. This effect seemed hardly possible, but it was so. There was something alive and sparkling about Olive and her music, which came to life through her playing. No it wasn't any personal magic that made her appear like that. Olive Osipov is a woman who embodies the qualities of universal love fully; more fully than anyone I have ever know. It flows from her soul through her music; through her manners; through her smiles; through her looks; through her gestures. She is the dynamo of love. After the performance, during the applause, she was met on stage by a group of children who presented a bouquet of roses to the musicians. The children chose Olive as the recipient. I was surprised to see the children; to see children at an evening chamber concert, and more so, to see them on stage. But, there they were. Olive was moved to tears by their gesture. She crouched down and embraced every one of them. She enveloped them with her love. It was there, on stage, that I saw as it were for the first time in my life, the glow of a love that one might call the real 'mother-love,' the kind of love that I realized I had not attained myself as yet. There was no 'distance' between her and the children; no vertical separation at all. The flow of love between them was a lateral flow; a meeting, gently, heart to heart; a meeting between many, but of one Soul. It appeared that in this flow of love, the flow of the music that the trio had performed, continued. It was reflected in it. It was elevated to a higher order by it. After Olive had embraced everyone of the children, she stood up, handed the flowers to the pianist, and while the children were still on stage, she picked up her violin again and played a special solo piece just for them, a piece I had never heard before. She played not for the audience primarily, but for the children. One could sense that she did, but one could also sense that this unity included nevertheless everyone, too. It confirmed the unity of the children with the audience. Afterwards, the entire trio played for the children. When Olive and I finally met in the lobby, as arranged, the same embrace continued, only with a different focus. I felt honored to be included in this embrace that still continued, even as I felt as if the music still continued on. || - page index - || - chapter index - || - Exit - ||
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