My parents gave me a violin for my thirteenth birthday. I never knew that it would be the most treasured gift of my life. It took awhile to arrive, but I was patient. After the violin came, I was so excited that my hands were trembling. I took out the case and, bit-by-bit, opened my violin case. I gasped at how beautiful it was. The dark, ruby red tone of the wood and the flames, like tiger stripes, gleamed in the brightness. I picked it up and immediately fell in love with it, and I knew that it was going to be cherished. That present was not an ordinary one, but an extraordinary present.

My dad asked me to try it out, so I picked up my bow, which was also very gorgeous, and started to tune. Even if it was out of tune, I could still hear the soft, sweet, and melancholy sound that flowed gently through my ears. I tuned it, and started to play my favorite, and also in my opinion, the saddest song, the song from Titanic. The melancholic sound was definitely standing out, and it moved me very much.

The violin tells me about its journey. Even though it was made in 2001, the wood was from China and was adjusted in Ann Arbor. Questions went through my mind: Which wood did it come from? For how long was the wood aged? The maker of this violin did a fabulous job, working with only his hands. He created colors of sadness, happiness, sweetness, and softness in the violin. I could release them all with just one stroke of the bow.

My life reflects with the violin. One song made by the violin is equal to a year in my age. As the violin plays more songs, it gets more mature in tone, as I get more mature myself.

The red violin will be with me the rest of my life. Though I will have to let it go someday, it will be the most treasured gift of my entire life.

Edited for clarity.