Tuesday, October 13, 2009

From A Lofty Perch

Quietly, I sat next to my mother in the balcony on the end of the row high above the stage. Ferrante and Teischer sat at pianos, fingers flying over the keys. A small farm girl sat enraptured,  falling into the music and perhaps into who she would be.

Our family was poor. We didn't have money to spend on frivolity. Entertainment came via the church and later television. I can only recall two movies I'd ever seen as a child. Yet our parents saw to it that we were exposed to something beyond the farm.

Yearly my parents purchased tickets for our family to attend Community Concerts. Famous artists side-stepped their concert venues in order to hit the small outlying communities. Tickets were cheaper so families like ours could experience a world we could only imagine. This little girl watched a blind George Shearing woo his audience feeling his way across the piano keys. The Arizona Boys Choir delighted us. Children singing for this child. Dancer danced. Musicians played. Sometimes a magician showed his tricks. Orchestras drew me in.

One of the greatest gifts my parents gave to me was that seat in Memorial Hall. Dressed in our finest church clothing, we drove to Greenville. Dad parked the car, and we walked up big steps, past the columns and into the Hall. Up the curved staircase we found our way to our seats. Each time a new adventure, a new experience. Doors were opened. Doors we children continued to open throughout our lives.

Thanks, Mom and Dad. From a lofty perch, I found the music in heart.
Add to Technorati Favorites

No comments: