Every Friday, an elderly Russian man stands outside the Super HaMoshava supermarket on Emek Refaim street, and plays European waltzes on his violin. Busy shoppers come and go, and every so often someone puts some coins into the open violin case at his feet. When I have time, I like to stop and listen to him. The music is beautiful, and the Mozart and Strauss and Beethoven and Pachelbel take me out of my pre-Shabbat frenzy and encourage me to take a moment to enjoy something heavenly. I believe that beautiful music is, indeed, Godly in certain ways, since it is something created from nothing.
I don't know who this man is, or how long he's lived here, or what he does the rest of the week, or how much money he's really making on Fridays. But I appreciate that God gave him a special talent, and that, in using it, he's lifting me out of myself every Friday morning.