Around the Zocalo, clowns draw a large crowd; bands, dancers, and fireworks do, too. Tonight, the crowd admiring a tiny troubadour drew hordes of people as he sang to diners seated at El Jardin and then the Italian Coffee Company. As this prodigy made his way toward the cathedral, three waiters from the restaurant above El Jardin perched to listen and watch at this tiny minstrel. The rest of us huddled around as closely as possible.
Passing parents told their children to take a good look at this talented young boy, and other young boys (most older) sat quietly listening, focusing on this entrancing entertainer in action. He was so captivating, in fact, that I cannot recall a single song or much about his older brother accompanying him on guitar, the one who helped to recover donations from the crowds surrounding them. This tiny troubadour was the only star shining tonight.
shewhodaresnothing 