Townhouses are small by definition. For years I’ve wanted a piano but I could not reconcile my desire with the reality of the space we live in. One day I realized God is bigger than my townhouse. We didn’t have a few grand (pardon the pun) to toss into this strange desire for a piano that I can’t play… yet… nonetheless, my heart yearned for the lovely notes to waft through my house with the pure sound of the ivory keys.
The conversation was simple. I’d like a piano, God. Whatever kind you think is best to fit in the living room. I know you can do it. I forgot about it after that. But I did notice piano sales from time to time.
Then they started coming in. I got five of them. That’s right, five pianos.
The first one someone was giving away, an upright, and I could have it if I could move it. I asked Paul what he thought and he gave me the answer I’d given myself for so long. The house is too small for a piano. Ok, no piano.
Then the second arrived. It was well loved and on a curb. We could take it if we could move it. Again Paul gave me the sensible answer. The next one I don’t remember but the fourth one was rough. It was free and needed to be moved, of course. But the house is too small and then the clincher addition, no one can play it.
By the time the fifth one rolled around I was getting smarter asking God to open Paul’s eyes to the possibility. The piano notice went out in a church bulletin and I was enthralled. Again, Paul said no and I watched my piano dream disappear over the pews. Then no one claimed it. In a church with a lot of people who had a lot of friends with no takers on this piano after months, how can that be? I was in heaven – obviously God was holding the piano for me.
I think I snapped when Paul asked me to pray that someone would take the piano because our friend needed to move. I told Paul it was my piano and I was going to pray for me. He gave me the impossible answer and began reasoning with me and midsentence asked if I prayed for this piano. No, I prayed for a piano and God gave me five of them. He stared at me and so did the entire congregation in church that day. Don’t you love how things get quiet around you and you just don’t notice…
My husband does not embarrass easily, good thing! He loves me dearly and would give me anything I want. He didn’t realize I wanted it until I persisted. Paul’s version of this story is that he remembers one piano, he said no and was promptly ambushed by my emotional response. Aye, marital harmony!
This piano has been passed down musician to musician from our first church; a bright history. Music floats through our townhouse like summer breezes in May. We found a great piano teacher for the girls. Now that she’s graduated college, she is studying post grad at a prestigious music school – she plays beautifully. The girls love their music; they write their own lyrics and scores impressing their friends at chorus.
Daily I hear bands of music playing the most excellent notes and I am whisked away to imaginary concerts on Newport lawns and performances on the Cape in town squares. What a wonderful sound my fifth piano makes singing me a melody of my husband’s patience and God’s continual offers of love. He trumps my reason all the time.
Friday, March 19, 2010
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This is right up my alley. I was a music major, the viola was my instrument. As I raised my children, we had a piano in the house. There's nothing like hearing those little fingers grow as they progress. Best of luck with the lessons!
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