This is one of the short stories from “Heaven is Like A Potluck and More Wisdom Tales”.
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The Music Recital

Grandma Yeshura answered her doorbell to find Erica and Paul on her doorstep.  Erica sighed deeply, dramatically placed the back of her wrist to her forehead, and in stricken tones proclaimed, “If I must, I must, but I’m not sure I can stand it.”

Paul put his hands together and piously looked skyward.   “I’m not sure I can stand it either, but I must also,” he said.  Then they both giggled.

“In that case,” Grandma Yeshura said to the teens, “you’d better come in and tell me about it.”

Her green eyes twinkling, the diminutive silver-haired lady led the way to her kitchen where glasses of ice cold lemonade waited.  She cut thick slices of bread, still warm from the oven, and passed them to the teens.  Erica spread freshly made lemon butter on hers while Paul drizzled black walnut honey on his.   They each took a big bite and leaned back, savoring the delicious flavors.

As Grandma Yeshura cut a second slice for each, she asked kindly, “What is the problem?”

Paul groaned.  Erica scrunched her face and replied, “Tonight is the grade school music recital and we have to go.”

Paul chimed in, “It’s not the recital so much.  It’s having to listen to little Timmy attempt to play his violin.  He’s so awful!  We walk by his house on the way home from school and have to listen to him every day.”

“It’s like fingernails on a chalk board,” Erica added.  “He keeps practicing and just doesn’t seem to get any better.  None of the first graders are very good, but he is especially bad.  Have you heard him?”

“Yes, I have.”  Grandma Yeshura smiled softly.  “He was here yesterday showing me his new suit and how he’s supposed to bow to the audience.  He even graced me with a private recital.”

“Ugh,” Paul groaned.  “How could you stand it?”

“It was wonderful,” Grandma Yeshura replied, smiling.

“Are we talking about the same Timmy?  Did you really hear him play?” Paul asked.

“Oh, yes, it’s the same Timmy and I did indeed hear him play,” Grandma Yeshura replied.  “I just hear differently than most people.”

The teens stared at her in amazement.  “How can you hear differently?  Doesn’t everyone hear the same way?” Erica asked.

“Most people hear with their ears,” Grandma Yeshura replied.  “I listen with my heart.  Most people listen to the surface, to what is actually played.  I listen beneath the surface, to what the musician hears and feels.  When Timmy plays, what most people hear are the wrong notes, irregular beat, scratching sound, poor technique, and other errors.  I hear Timmy’s excitement in playing music, his desire to do well, and the beautiful rendition he hears in his mind.  He is so thrilled at being asked to perform in the recital tonight.  He knows he’s not the best musician in his class and this opportunity means a great deal to him.  He’s spent hours practicing so that he can do well.  I’ve heard some musicians who simply play the notes.  Technically, they are very good, but their hearts are not in their music and they don’t sound very good to me.  Technically, Timmy may not be very good yet, but his whole heart is in his music and that is the most beautiful sound in the world to me.”

Grandma Yeshura sipped her lemonade.  “Erica, do you remember your first grade recital?  You invited me over to hear your piano piece and see your new dress.  It was powder blue with a bow in back and a matching bow for your hair. You had been practicing for weeks, but you were still very nervous.”

“You remember all that?” Erica was amazed.

“Do you also remember how bad she was?” Paul asked.

“I was not!” Erica retorted.  “I got a standing ovation.  Everyone said it was wonderful and encouraged me to keep playing.”

“You banged the keys so hard I thought you were going to break the piano and you managed to play the cracks between the keys!” Paul laughed at the memory.

“It couldn’t have been that bad.”  Erica looked to Grandma Yeshura for help.

Grandma Yeshura smiled at Erica.  “First graders are just learning and think how much they have to learn.  There’s reading the music, keeping the beat, fingering, turning pages, and at that age you’re still learning coordination.  That’s a lot to learn all at once.  I heard your excitement and love of the music.  You’re technique is much better now and that passion is still there.  Even the greatest musicians started out making mistakes.”

“Well, I guess it could have been better,” Erica admitted.  “Actually, now that I think about it, it probably was pretty bad.  I’ve learned a lot since then and there are a lot of things I used to do that I wouldn’t do now.  I didn’t know all the tricks and techniques then.  Actually, I still don’t!”

“How did the standing ovation make you feel?  And all the encouragement to continue?” Grandma Yeshura asked.

Erica smiled as she thought of that night long ago.  “It felt wonderful!” she replied.  “I had worked so hard and it was so exciting to be recognized for my work.”

“Little Timmy has worked very hard, too,” Grandma Yeshura reminded the teens.  “Paul, you were encouraged to keep trying at Little League and look where you are now.  You’re team captain and helping with Little League yourself.  Erica, you’ve come a long way with your piano.  You’re playing pieces now that you never would have thought about playing in first grade and you’re practicing so you can play even more difficult pieces.  Your friend Mandy dropped piano to study dance instead, but she still has a love for music.  Think of all the people taking baby steps in a new area who are discouraged from continuing because they aren’t good enough when they start.  How many of them might have become good if they had received a little encouragement?  And how many people don’t even try something because they are afraid of failing?”

Erica looked down at her feet for a few moments, then back up again.  “I think he deserves the same encouragement I got, “she said with determination.

“Yeah,” Paul agreed.  “I wasn’t very good when I started Little League, but Coach Hillard sure encouraged me and helped me improve.  I want to help other kids the way he helped me.”

That night in the grade school auditorium Grandma Yeshura sat center front, as she always did.  Erica and Paul sat on one side of her and Timmy’s family sat on the other side.  Little Timmy was one of the first to perform.  He nervously walked out to center stage and almost dropped his violin bow.  Grandma Yeshura bowed slightly to the right.  Her warm smile calmed him.  He picked up the hint and made small, stiff bows to the audience, to the right, then left, then center.  He tucked the violin under his chin and, with a big smile on his face, began to play.  While some people heard only the scratchings of a first grader, Grandma Yeshura, Erica, and Paul heard the glorious notes that little Timmy heard.

When he finished, Erica and Paul were first on their feet to give him a standing ovation.  Timmy’s smile lit his face and radiated from his eyes.  He was so excited his closing bows were quick bobs before jumping off stage and dashing to his mother while the next performer walked onto the stage.

“Mom!  Mom!  Do you hear?  Everyone liked my piece!”  Timmy ran to Grandma Yeshura and gave her an enormous hug.  “Grandma Yeshura, I did it!” he exclaimed.

Grandma Yeshura smiled broadly and gently kissed his forehead.  “Yes, you did.  You were wonderful,” she whispered.

 

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