Give me the heart of the glockenspieler.
[Written by one of our staff members (Kayla) after the first performance of the summer in May, 2013.]
We did it! The first show of the summer was a complete success! Was it flawless? Um… THEY ARE KIDS! so, no… there were forgotten lines, there were uncontrollable nerves, there were snickers, and yes, there was lots of fidgeting. But, you know what else? There was also joy, riotous laughter from the audience, tears of whelming yet wonderful emotions, and 65 kids who put on a thoroughly entertaining hour and a half show. Yes, it was a success. While the show was wonderful and I could seriously write forever about the adorable children and the hilarious lines coming from the mouths of 8 year olds, there was something that God taught me last night. Yes, as you may have heard, you learn a lot from kids. And last night was the night they would start teaching me. So, here’s the story of the glockenspiel. Yeah that’s right, a glockenspiel. So, many of you know that I sort of took a semester of piano lessons and almost died because of it. No, seriously, it was a close call… So, when I find out that we have to teach children how to play not a piano, but something that is set up like a piano but you play with mallets and it makes a chiming sound and its bigger than a xylophone and I almost failed piano and I hate piano and anything with pianos terrifies me and ITS CALLED A GLOCKENSPIEL! yeah, I was not too excited about that prospect… Up until last night, however, I had successfully avoided any direct teaching of such a terrifying instrument so I thought I was safe. But, of course, just when I was comfortable with the peace and joy of thinking that I would not be in charge of that responsibility, a little girl about 9 comes up to me and says, “Um I think I’m supposed to play that thing during this song, can you help me?” Uuuuuuuuhhhhh… see little girl, you don’t know this, but you seriously asked the worst glockenspieler in the history of glockenspielers. Yeah, really, you couldn’t have gone up to any of the other 17 people wearing the same shirt as me who would all be better equipped to help you with that? No? Of course not…”Oh sure I’ll help you during that song!” Are the words I tried desperately to shove back in my mouth as soon as they hit my ears. But there they were. So the time for the song comes in the performance. And for a brief second, ok maybe not so brief, I thought I’d pretend that I didn’t know it was time for that song and hope that the little girl would forget too. But that lovely momentary thought, was interrupted by a little pair of legs scurrying across the stage straight towards her instrument. I walk over to her and successfully help her find literally the two notes she has to play the entire time. Two notes. I was a music major. That seriously should not have stressed me out. But there it was… Anyway, the song starts and she waits for my signal, her eyes are locked on the notes, and she begins. And she plays the same two notes repeatedly for the entire song. But I looked at her face. This was her job. This was her responsibility. She was important. The song needed her. And so she played. And her tiny hands played faithfully the most boring set of chords in the history of songs. But her heart was pouring onto the instrument. She missed tempo, she hit the wrong not here and there, but she was so intent on her role in the show that nothing would stop her. Her dedication blew me away. She was playing the equivalent of a baby xylophone… She had two notes, one chord… But that was her role. She had been placed there and she would play with all that she had. The song ended. I went back to my seat. Wow… yeah, I feel like I could learn a few things here… How many times have I been given a role that was far less than the lead, how many jobs have I been asked to do that would receive no recognition, and… how many times have I taken on that role or job and given it all that I have? She was 9. She was banging a note out with a mallet. But it was beautiful. Her heart was beautiful. Her steady hands were beautiful. Her intent eyes were beautiful. Yeah, I want that kind of heart.