When I was seven years old my sweet mother had high hopes that I would become an accomplished pianist. Because I had a willful, lazy side to my personality, I thought practicing the piano was pure drugery and no fun at all. My goal at that time in my life was to have all the fun that I could. when I sat on the piano bench, thirty minutes of practicing seemed like forever.
Every Tuesday after school, I went to church with children ranging from ages three to twelve. First we had music time and then we divided up in age groups and went to classrooms for a Suday school type lesson.
The music leader thought that it would be nice to have a child perform some kind of talent after our singing time each week. So my sweet mother promptly volunteered me. She thought it would be the perfect way to motivate me to practice. When I saw the music sheet that the music leader had given my mother, I was more determined than ever not to practice. It looked way too hard to me. And whenerver I skipped by the piano and saw that piece, I skipped in the other direction.
About a month went by and I was sitting in my pew on Tuesday afternoon and we had just finished our singing time, when all of the sudden I heard the music leader call my name and she said that I was going to play a piece on the piano for our talent. It's funny that it never occurred to me that I should decline. Instead I walked up to the piano, sat down on the bench and began playing a tune (or I should say not a tune) that I made up at that moment. I had all ten fingers on the piano keys and I played keys and notes of every kind up and down the piano. When I thought I had played a sufficient amount of time, I returned to my pew. I saw alot of surprised faces. My poor sweet mother was one of the teachers so she was there. But she never said a word about it. She probably thought I had humiliated myself enough.
