Introduction to Growing Toward the Light
In the stillness of the night, love plucked the strings of her fate.
Lin Wan, a gifted violinist, once inhabited a world woven from Bach's precision and Paganini's brilliance, until an accident robbed her of the ability to perceive sound. Her musical dreams came crashing down, and she banished herself to a silent island. Color faded from her life, leaving nothing but the gray-and-white scenes of a silent film.
Then she walked into a cafe called “A Glimmer in the Corner” and met its owner, Jiang Chen. He was quiet and stubborn, but his eyes could see the scars on people's souls. His clumsy sign language was like a stone tossed into still water:
“Are you afraid to even try because you're afraid of failing, or because you're afraid you'll fall in love with the world again?”
His words were a glimmer of light, prying open the door to her tightly shut heart.
Jiang Chen handed her a score long hidden away: “Light and Shadow,” the posthumous work of his deaf uncle. In the silent vibrations of the metronome, and to the rhythmic hand gestures he made in time with the air around them, Lin Wan began to “read” music with her fingertips, “hear” melodies through touch, and “paint” harmonies with a brush. A journey began: rebuilding music in silence and rekindling hope in the depths of despair.
When Jiang Chen played the old piano for her, and the flood of music entered her body through the instrument's vibrations, she finally understood:
True listening comes from the heart; true growth often happens against the light.
This is a story about loss and renewal, despair and hope.
