Dear Aida – Selina, Grade 12

This literary letter is written by one of my grade 12 students. The letter is part of a multi-text project on the theme of forgiveness. Often times, we, fallible humans, make mistakes in our lives. Unable to forgive ourselves, some of us brood over our mistakes for as long as we are alive, and yet some decide to forgive ourselves and live on with the regret, a regret that weighs on our shoulders, converting us into better humans.  The letter is creatively written from a violin’s perspective, asking its player, Aida, who has vowed not to touch it anymore as punishment, to forgive herself for her past mistakes. Note the use of appropriate adjectives and adverbs, which has made it an emotional piece.  

Dear Aida,

In my cold loneliness, I keep thinking of the happy times we shared and the fun memories we had. It has been so long since you held me in your warm and loving arms, and I am scared that I will forget that feeling. I am already starting to forget your gentle yet firm touch and your deep, loving gaze. I miss the tender care you gave me and how we used to share our hot, fiery passion.

If only you could move on from the past and come back to me. I could help comfort you, as I will always be by your side. I only wish for your happiness, and I know that your mother would not want this of us.

You turned to me for solace, reaching for the music your mother had always filled the house with. But when your bow scraped my bowstrings, I failed you. Instead of an enchanting melody filling the air, an awful screech came out instead. Your grief was replaced by shock, and then you imploded. Silent tears streamed down your face and chin, raining down on me. Let’s forgive ourselves, forgive ourselves for our mistakes, so we can move forward to a brighter future.

I failed you once already, and I wish I could undo that day. I remember the sorrow in your eyes after your mother’s funeral. How silent and empty the house has become in the days after her death!

Embrace me once more when you’re ready; let’s play the beautiful melodies you learned from your mother. Let’s vibrate the strings and dance to the soothing tune together all around the room. Let’s stand before your mom’s frame and talk to her in quiet tones.

I miss the care and love you showered me with each and every day. My home used to be beside you, but now, I lay inside a dark and cold case underneath your bed. I haven’t seen you in years, and my yearning to be played has grown indefinitely.

Sincerely Yours,

Your lonely violin