WHEN MAGIC HAPPENS
It was at a festival celebrating taro and community in Hana that I saw another one of them — an intense, prepubescent boy who carried an ukulele around wherever he went.
I noticed him sitting on the grass very close to the front of the low-built stage under a big canvas tent. He sat there, soaking in the presence of a musician who was making a name for himself in the big city of Honolulu and beyond and doing his town proud.
The boy was absolutely focused, strumming his old, well-used ukulele, frowning in concentration as he tried to match his hero’s fingerings and licks. He was rapt in the music and transported to a world that was only sound and touch and heart. …
