I taught piano lessons (and later added voice lessons) for over 35 years. By the time I had to quit due to my eye problems, I had a full studio with a two year waiting list. My students participated in three competitions a year, and no less than four joint recitals, depending upon their ages and their pieces. At the end of the year, we had what I billed as "the Spring Program," because most people considered recitals "boring" and our programs were anything but. We put on a show and we had fun. And afterward I handed out sometimes as many as 20 awards, including some state competition trophies. Yes, it was a very big deal in our lives.
"Our lives" because my boys were part of it. I taught them both. Lucas went on to focus on voice and theory, while Nathan stayed with the piano. It's always satisfying to see your children follow in your footsteps. One day Nathan and I sat down and sightread duets for a half hour or so. I don't know about him, but I had a blast. He had grown and learned enough that we could share on an equal footing, a truly exhilarating experience.
And now, thanks to seeing Daddy play at home, my grandson Silas has started piano lessons. Last spring I went to his first recital. He had wowed me all morning, playing a hands-moving-together piece at a difficulty that no 6 year old student of mine had ever reached—with only 8 months of piano under his belt. We not only practiced his piece, but his bow as well. (Any of my old students reading this will understand.) And so we all went to the auditorium and sat four rows from the front while he walked up to the grand piano and played his piece. Perfectly. With the classiest bow of the evening. Just last week he did the same thing, this year playing three pieces—perfectly with an almost professional bow.
I couldn't stop smiling. And I also couldn't stop the tears from welling in my eyes. Somehow I managed to get them under control before he saw them, and I gave him a huge hug. "I am very proud," I said. "You have made me very happy."
As proud and happy as I was that day, there are a few other things that would make me even happier. I doubt I even have to list them. You know exactly what I am talking about because you wish them for your children and grandchildren too.
I still help Silas with his piano practice. With a new piece I often play the left hand while he plays the right, and then we swap places. By then he can manage to put both hands together himself. I still help with the theory homework, clapping out rhythms and asking questions that lead him to the right answers.
But more often than that, we talk about Bible characters, narratives and principles. We talk about God. We pray together and sing together. We memorize verses and recite them together. Doesn't he get this from his parents? Of course he does, but the more he gets from more different people—especially people who mean something to him—the more it will mean to him, and the better it will stick. Just like his Grandma and Daddy playing the piano.
That first recital was wonderful. But a first public prayer, a first sermon, and of course, the first commitment--when the time is right--will be even better.
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children, to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments. (Ps 103:17-18)
Dene Ward
"Our lives" because my boys were part of it. I taught them both. Lucas went on to focus on voice and theory, while Nathan stayed with the piano. It's always satisfying to see your children follow in your footsteps. One day Nathan and I sat down and sightread duets for a half hour or so. I don't know about him, but I had a blast. He had grown and learned enough that we could share on an equal footing, a truly exhilarating experience.
And now, thanks to seeing Daddy play at home, my grandson Silas has started piano lessons. Last spring I went to his first recital. He had wowed me all morning, playing a hands-moving-together piece at a difficulty that no 6 year old student of mine had ever reached—with only 8 months of piano under his belt. We not only practiced his piece, but his bow as well. (Any of my old students reading this will understand.) And so we all went to the auditorium and sat four rows from the front while he walked up to the grand piano and played his piece. Perfectly. With the classiest bow of the evening. Just last week he did the same thing, this year playing three pieces—perfectly with an almost professional bow.
I couldn't stop smiling. And I also couldn't stop the tears from welling in my eyes. Somehow I managed to get them under control before he saw them, and I gave him a huge hug. "I am very proud," I said. "You have made me very happy."
As proud and happy as I was that day, there are a few other things that would make me even happier. I doubt I even have to list them. You know exactly what I am talking about because you wish them for your children and grandchildren too.
I still help Silas with his piano practice. With a new piece I often play the left hand while he plays the right, and then we swap places. By then he can manage to put both hands together himself. I still help with the theory homework, clapping out rhythms and asking questions that lead him to the right answers.
But more often than that, we talk about Bible characters, narratives and principles. We talk about God. We pray together and sing together. We memorize verses and recite them together. Doesn't he get this from his parents? Of course he does, but the more he gets from more different people—especially people who mean something to him—the more it will mean to him, and the better it will stick. Just like his Grandma and Daddy playing the piano.
That first recital was wonderful. But a first public prayer, a first sermon, and of course, the first commitment--when the time is right--will be even better.
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children, to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments. (Ps 103:17-18)
Dene Ward
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