Who Am I? Part 2: Adult Provokes Child

When I was nine, we moved into a 2-story house with a big front porch surrounded by popcorn bushes. Inside was a huge surprise for me: an old upright piano that had been left behind in a small sitting room. 

We had moved out of the first floor of a rented house right across from the parsonage next to the little white church on the corner. 

The minister's 2 daughters taught me how to read music and play their baby grand piano. They were leaving for college and told my mother I was ready for a piano teacher after the upright piano was tuned.

My mother announced a piano teacher would be coming to meet us. I understood later that her criteria was that he or she would come to our house and was cheap. I never heard the phrase "You get what you pay for." But I saw it happen.

This man never tested me to determine where I needed to start. He just gave me book one and I was  instructed to work on the first two songs. I was able to play the whole book in one sitting. 

Every week he brought a new book and my mother was getting very upset paying for them. Then he brought me.one song and laughed saying, "Bet you can't play this one."

It was written in octaves- meaning my right hand had to stretch across eight keys. As an adult, I can barely do that. As a nine-year-old it was impossible. I could play it using the top or bottom of the melody- just not both at the same time.

The next lesson he arrived grinning. He delighted at beating me; "I knew you couldn't play this one!"

Too bad I didn't know Ephesians 6:4a back then:

Piano Teacher, do not provoke your

child/student to anger,

[my paraphrase]

OR

Colossians 3:21, KJV

Fathers, provoke not your children to anger,

lest they be discouraged.

My teacher laughed and laughed. I yelled louder though and threw him out the front door! Literally! My mother came running and boy, I was in big trouble. I've never regretted it even though that was the end of my piano lessons. I was not going to be discouraged. I was going to learn how to play,  

I learned that I had a line when crossed forced me to act. Although I hated confrontation, I could stand up for myself. It was an important lesson I would need in life. As a child, I could advocate for others better than for myself.

As an adult, I taught myself to play the piano and found that I was very good at sight-reading. [Playing accurately without seeing the music ahead of time.] My friend, Alene, was asked to sing at various women's functions. She often phoned to ask me to accompany her. I always asked why she didn't call me sooner?

 "Honey, You can handle it." 

And I usually did, but a bit of practice would have been better for my anxiety level.

Pitiful Pearl

 

Illustrator William Steig was the creator of Pitiful Pearl. 

In the 1950s, Pitiful Pearl left the page and became a popular doll.

        For as long as I can remember, I associated her with this song from the 1940s:

I'M A LONELY LITTLE PETUNIA IN AN ONION PATCH 

Of all the saddest words 

That I have ever heard 

The saddest is the story 

Told me by a bird 

He had spent about an hour 

Chatting with a flower 

and here ís the tale the flower told

I'm a lonely little petunia in an onion patch, 

an onion patch, an onion patch 

I'm a lonely little petunia in an onion patch 

and all I do is cry all day 

Boo hoo, boo hoo.

Listen at :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8p4u7ZcOWnA

I relate to poor Pearl for in the last year or so I have had quite a few lonely, boo hoo days. 

Since I have been dealing with multiple health issues, those days have increased. 

Chronic illness can take the stuffin' right out of you: little or no energy, no stamina, 

fatigue and whatever symptoms are causing your limitations, including pain.

I came up with a way that helps me get out of the onion patch. It allows me to be that

lovely petunia, who is able to say, "Be gone, Pitiful Pearl!"

The next post I'll share my Pity Party Bashers

Selah-

Connie

.

Christmas In the Summertime

...the wise men went their way. Once again the star appeared to them, guiding them to Bethlehem. It went ahead of them and stopped over the place where the child was. (Matthew 2:9 NLT)

One of my most memorable Christmas celebrations occurred during the summer of 1983 when I attended a Singspiration Music Conference. Music conferences are special because almost everyone there is in music ministry, many as choir directors and worship leaders. Attendees get a preview of all the music for the next year- often by the people who wrote it.

Everyone becomes part of a choir either for an Easter or a Christmas cantata. In 3 days, you learn the music then present it in an evening concert. My group, that year, sang Derric Johnson's A Song, A Star, A Son. As musician's we learned the music quickly, so could concentrate on how to present the cantata. We discussed the words and their meaning with the man who wrote them, from his heart, with the help of God.

As a mother of one child, a son, I was deeply touched by these words: A song... a simple song; a star... a single star... a Son, God's Son- the perfect one, God's only one.

When we arrived in our long skirts and the men in their suits, the auditorium had been transposed into Christmas. Composer, lyric writer Derric Johnson walked on stage in a tuxedo and bowed to the choir before acknowledging the audience. We were excited to be presenting the world's first performance of A Song, A Star, A Son. We were eager to please Derric and to bring God glory.

Before the Finale, we sang, Quite a Little Baby. It reminds us that the little baby in the hay was born to die upon a cross and Derric asked us to dramatize the end of the song. At measure 87 every other person slipped their music on top of the music of the person to their left. In half time we sang with a slow, but building crescendo, He spread His hands out wide___. (rest) Then from double forte to double soft and (rest) died. The was a soft gasp from the audience as every other choir member stood with their arms outstretched. Derric Johnson had tears streaming down his face as he mouthed, Yes That's it. It was as if all 150 singers were on the cross with Jesus.

The accompaniment tape was stopped and we waited... truly angels hovered near for we were on Holy Ground.

All arms went down at his signal and we finished the song; at double forte on high B-flat, we sang, Jesus Christ, the Lord as if it was Resurrection morning

The words and the music stirred a part of my soul that needed to experience the true miracle of my Lord's humble, earthly birth. It was awe-inspiring, magnificent, impressive yet simple. The applause went on and on- music ministers, deeply touched, offering their praises for God's work through Derric Johnson.
If I never sang again, it would have been enough to have sung A Song, A Star, A Son, that evening, but at the same time I wanted to sing it again and again. And I do, every year during Christmas week.

It is my prayer that Derric Johnson's words will stir your soul.

What makes the difference is our heart's response to the song... and the star... and the Son. Christmas means He came to you; salvation means you come to Him. Christmas is the Son of God becoming the Son of Man so that the sons of men become the sons of God.

Come and worship, Come and worship, Worship Christ, the New Born King

Selah-

Shalom, Connie