Ravi and the Rain Drum
Music can help us notice the world.
Ravi did not like rainy days. Rain meant no soccer, no swings, and no chalk drawings on the sidewalk.
One rainy afternoon, Ravi sat by the window and frowned. Drip. Drop. Drip-drop-drop.
His grandmother placed an empty oatmeal container beside him. “What is that for?” Ravi asked. “Listen first,” she said.
The rain tapped on the roof. Ravi tapped the container. The rain splashed in puddles. Ravi patted the container faster. The wind whooshed. Ravi rubbed his hands along the sides.
Soon the kitchen filled with music: drip drums, splash beats, and whooshing rhythms. His little sister danced. His grandmother clapped. Even Ravi laughed.
When the rain stopped, Ravi looked disappointed. “Already?” he asked.
His grandmother smiled. “The rain will come again. But now you know its song.”