The Symphony of ColorThe children filed into the community center, their chatter a flock of bright, noisy birds. They were there to meet a "real artist." But when they saw him, some of their steps faltered. Mr. Alistair sat before a large, blank canvas, his milky, unseeing eyes pointed towards the window, a rainbow of paints arranged neatly by his assistant.A girl named Lily, bold and curious, was the first to speak. "How can you paint if you can't see?"A smile touched Alistair's lips. "Ah, but I do see. I see with my hands, my ears, and my heart. Today,