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Music Saves the Day!
A Fable for Youths and the Young at Heart about the Importance of Music and the Arts to People and the World.
Available Soon in Downloadable Video Format

Music Saves the Day


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A fable for youths and adults alike. Open this book, turn to the opening page, begin to read, and confirm what you have suspected all along- that music truly is the universal language! Perhaps, if we will allow it, music and the arts may truly have the power to heal and transform our world.

You will truly enjoy this delightful and meaningful fable!

Written and Illustrated by
Michael D. Purvis


(Coming Soon)


Excerpt from Book:


This book for youths and the young at heart has, I hope, a lot to teach us all about ourselves, our world, and the great gift of music, and the arts.

Diplomacy, statesmanship, military might- none of these have brought peace to our world. Perhaps music and the arts can bring peace and accord to us.
This sounds like an idea for dreamers, but what would the world be without its dreams?

As Mark Twain said, "Dream other dreams, and better!"

And now, please enjoy "Music Saves the Day!"

The author

From Chapter One

Illustration by Michael D. Purvis

In a beautiful kingdom by the sea, lived a people to whom music was the most important thing in the land. Music, you see, was a part of their everyday life. And beauty, and all things lovely, were the subjects of their songs.

In this beautiful kingdom, almost everyone played an instrument or sang. During the day, the people of the kingdom would whistle and sing as they worked. At luncheon time, there would be recitations of poetry and spontaneous concerts. And in the evenings, the inhabitants of the realm would sit together, in families and in groups, and sing of everything beautiful in their world!

Beautiful instrumental accompaniments would enhance the singing at these evening concerts, and together they would let their songs rise into the heavens. Oh, they were very happy!

When the people whistled while they worked, or spontaneously gave concerts at luncheon, or gathered together for musical evenings, up above, the angels smiled and God shed a tear. In fact, when the songs were especially beautiful, God and the angels would cry for joy. Those heavenly tears were especially nourishing, and would come down on the kingdom in the form of rain.

When this happened, all the flowers in the kingdom would be particularly beautiful the next day, and the maidens of the land would wear them in their hair, and wear them about their necks as garlands.

And when a young couple met and fell in love on one of these blessed days, the young man, having been entranced by the sight of his lady love wearing these lovely, rain-nourished flowers, it was said that their love would be especially blessed.

When these young couples married, and produced children, their little ones would be christened and blessed with a special ceremony, involving, appropriately, music, flowers, and rainwater. For, you see, all of these things had contributed to the love of their parents, and thus to the birth of these blessed children.

All was lovely, blessed, and beautiful in this kingdom by the sea. All was blessed indeed, until one day, the evil sorcerer who lived in the craggy depths, in the damp dark cave at the bottom of the cliff at the edge of the kingdom, finally had enough of all the music and laughter in this musical kingdom.

Illustration by Michael D. Purvis

He had, he decided, heard enough of their whistling, their luncheon concerts, and their evening gatherings! He could not, he thought to himself, stand even one more "ooh!" or "ah," nor one more musical refrain of "Hail to Child, Lovely Flower of our Heart" from even one more christening! Nor could he stand the strains from one more wedding of sweethearts who had met and fallen in love on a day of beautiful flowers, nourished by tears from heaven.

He could stand no more!

Unlike God and the angels, he did not love, or even like the beautiful sounds of the music of the kingdom, which floated across the plains, and over the edge of the cliff at the edge of the land. He, in fact, detested these melodies which drifted down the long cliff face and into the cove, which formed the mouth of his sea-side cave.

"Why?," you ask. "Why should he be such a crabby and unappreciative old sorcerer?"

Well, you see, the craggy cove, with its rock formations, moving water, and tall cliff-side precipice, served to amplify the sound, tuning it, often making it clear and crisp. And, consequently, from inside his dank, dark cave, it was, often as not, as if the evil sorcerer had a front row seat at the musical happenings of the kingdom!

Now you may ask, "Is this really so bad? Surely the music must have been lovely; and an old sorcerer gets lonely, doesn't he?"

But alas, the ancient, evil magician was not made happy by the music, not happy in the least. He did not see it as a special gift, these free concerts. Rather, they were to him a curse.

For if the truth be told, the music he heard coming from the kingdom, instead of making him cry tears of joy (as it induced in God and the angels) made his tummy ache.

"Someday, someday," he would cry when he was at his wits end and really could not stand another note, "I… I… I… I don't know what I'll do- but somehow, I'll stop that horrible, that detestable music!"

The sorcerer would scream this, and worse, as he heard the daily music drifting down from the kingdom high above his cave.

"Oh, I'll make their instrument strings go plunk and break!" he would seethe.

"I'll turn their melodious voices to gravelly rasps!" he would growl.

"I'll make their flowers shrivel, their weddings and christenings gloomy, and everything in their lovely little lives less lively!" would screech the old sorcerer on a daily basis.

"But how to do it?" he would muse.

"If only their songs weren't so beautiful! You know how I detest beauty!" sighed the frustrated old spellbinder to his little pet spider, Esmerelda, one day.

"Well," Esmerelda said, "You're the sorcerer! Why don't you do something, instead of grousing and complaining every day? You didn't go to sorcerer's school for nothing! You didn't learn black magic spells for nothing, now did you?"

"Quiet!- or I'll squash you, Esmerelda!" hissed the sorcerer.

"Well, I'm just trying to be helpful," replied the spider, trying to look non-chalante and unconcerned.

But the sorcerer did think about what his little pet spider had said.

He thought about it quite a lot.

Illustration by Michael D. Purvis

İ2003, Michael D. Purvis


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