"To play or not to
play the piano?" Suzanne wrestled with that question every
single day. It was not what she wanted to do, but her
mother insisted that she become a professional pianist.
"Why me? I hate practicing." It was a constant battle with
her mother.
"I am not practicing
today," Suzanne screamed at the top of her lungs, as she turned her
brand new keyboard off and headed out the door. "I'm playing with my
friends today!"
"But Suzanne, your
father and I spent a lot of money purchasing that keyboard for you. You need to
show some appreciation for it."
"She has such perfect
hands for playing piano, because her fingers are so long," her mother
said, sadly. "If only she would show some interest in the piano, but she
doesn't."
She didn't realize that her
younger daughter, Bridgette, had heard every word she said.
"I would give anything to
have piano lessons," thought Bridgette. "Mom, teach me."
"No, Bridgette,
your fingers are much too short to be a professional piano
player."
Bridgette looked down at her
hands and almost burst into tears. She did have very short fingers
and bit her fingernails, too. She hid her hands behind her back, hiding
them in shame.
"Just wanting to do
something is not always enough," said her mother, who was a gifted,
professional pianist.
"But I would practice
every day." Bridgette smiled brightly
at her mother. "Please, I would try
really hard."
"I'll tell you
what," replied her mother, giving her a hug. "I will teach
you the basics of music, but not how to play the piano."
"Great!" said
Bridgette excitedly. "Thank you ever so
much!"
"I will teach myself to
play," she decided later, as she sat her room and pretended that
she was at the piano keyboard.
Bridgette did just that and practiced every
single day, for hours at a time.
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