It was a beautiful day in the middle of spring, people out and about, a gentle, warm breeze igniting idle chatter among strangers. The flowers were in full bloom, and their scent was carried through the breeze. All in all, the day was perfect.
Austria took the day in as he strolled through the city, hearing cheerful conversations and laughter from the people walking past, getting on with their daily lives. He could feel the peacefulness of the people around him.
He finally arrived at his destination; a large area with benches and a large fountain in the middle. The fountain was as impressive as the day it was built (for he was there on the day of its reveal) and the water attracted many birds, who washed their feathers in the different tiers. A few families were gathered around it, throwing coins. A group of teenagers were trying to get coins into the top tier, and cheering when one of them made it.
Stopping in front of a curved building away from most people, Austria set down his violin case. Kneeling down he opened the case and took the instrument and its bow out, blowing off a few specks of dust. It was his favorite violin, about a decade or so old, made by one of his favorite luthiers. The wood had a strong red tint, with gold filaments scattered throughout. He had half a mind to go further into the sun so its beauty would be properly shown, but he decided against it considering he would be playing for a few hours at least.
He spent a few minutes tuning the instrument to the curved building's acoustics, then set to work on one of his new compositions, a slow piece about spring in Austria. It was quite fitting for the day. Austria played at a middle volume, not wanting to entirely disturb the population in the area, but wanted it to be background music.
The nation closed his eyes, feeling the music and the world around him, adjusting the tune to the mood of the square. He loved playing his newest works in public; it allowed him to hear the music out of the confines of his home, and also to spread the joy of music to his own people. They didn't know who he was, but he knew who they all were, and wanted to impart something meaningful on them. It was his gift to them, his citizens.
As usual, he opened his eyes when the song was finished and saw a crowd of twenty or so people standing in a semicircle around him. When they saw he had finished completely, they smiled and clapped. One child around ten or eleven asked for another song, and people threw some coins or bills into his open violin case.
Austria took a modest bow, thanked them, and steadied his instrument. He closed his eyes and started his second song, a livelier tune intended to be played at a festival or a celebration of sorts. Towards the middle he opened his eyes and saw children dancing and laughing to the song, and parents smiling. There was nothing else like it in the world.
Austria took a lunch break, played for another two hours, and then packed up his instrument, speaking to people who wanted to comment on his performance, or take any questions (how did you get so good? Can I learn to do that?) people might have. All the money he earned went in a special bag, and he went straight over to a modest building about half a mile away from the square.
The building was brick and wood and still in good repair even after nearly a century. The flower bushes out front were trimmed and neat, the grass even and well kempt. The tinkling of a piano and the sweet tune of the flute could be heard from the building. Austria walked into the building and up to the desk, smiling at the receptionist.
He greeted her and she told him the director was in class with a student, and he could go right in. Austria thanked her and headed over to the room where the flute and piano were being played.
Inside there was a young girl about twelve on the piano, and a teenage boy accompanying her on the flute. He recognized it as the tune of "Ave Maria" by Bach. It was being performed beautifully by the duet, the director making quiet suggestions every once in awhile, but generally letting the two play the song throughout.
Once they were finished, Austria clapped politely, the three people in the room looking up in surprise, but the director smiled widely once she realized who it was.
As Austria had been for the past century, he gave all of his money to the small music school, which gave free instrument lessons to children who could not afford lessons themselves. They were given opportunities to perform and, for those that wished to make a career out of their instrument or instruments of choice, they could have extra help applying for musical scholarships at major universities and private schools around the country.
Over the years he had seen young performers bloom under the director's care, and go on to do great things, despite their underprivileged upbringing. Music, to Austria, was something that should be experienced by any who wished to experience it. Seeing the smiling faces and hear the beautiful music was enough to make his day, and he did all he could for the music school.
Several Years Later
Austria was returning back to the same music school, dropping off his weekly earnings from his music playing. A familiar tune rung out from one of the practice rooms as he walked in.
Sure enough, it was a flute/piano duet of "Ave Maria", skillfully played by two young ladies. The girl on the piano was no older than six or seven.
"Are you ever going to get tired of coming here?" The director asked him after the song was playing and the young girls were practicing another tune by themselves.
"Never," Austria said, smiling. "It makes my life much brighter with young musicians playing music in it."