The Forgotten Strings

In a mountain village a few miles from Thessaloniki in Northern Greece, there was a young girl named Eleni who was famous for her incredible talent on the lyra, the traditional Greek fiddle. Her music had the power to make elderly men cry and children dance barefoot on the ground. But Eleni played only at home. "Music cannot feed a family," her father would say gruffly, offering her a spindle of wool instead.

Years passed, and the village fell into hardship. War loomed. Refugees arrived from the coast, hollow-eyed and silent. One evening, a group of displaced children gathered near Eleni’s home, huddled around a makeshift fire. She watched them from the window — listless, frightened, some still clutching scraps of memories. That night, something stirred inside her.

The following morning, Eleni took her lyra and approached the children. She sat down among them and started to play — not melancholy melodies, but ancient Macedonian folk tunes full of laughter, rhythm, and light.

The children looked blankly at first. Then, one by one, their heads rose. A boy applauded. A girl hummed a tune. Another began to dance.

The villagers observed from a distance. They assembled gradually. Smiles came back, for the first time in months. Tears as well — but not of hurt.

From then on, Eleni played every night in the square. She taught the kids how to sing. She reminded them how to smile. Her music did not fill stomachs, but it filled something more.

Years after, a passerby asked her why she had not left the village to seek stardom.

Eleni smiled and said, "Because here, my strings found their purpose."

Moral:

True purpose is not applause, but service — where your gift heals another's wound.

Inspiration:

At the point where your gifts, talents, and ability converge with a human need; there, you will find your purpose - Aristotle