Mike on Odd Places His Tongue Has Been

Mike on Calculus.

If power could control wisdom....

Katie and the Grand Piano

Not long ago, probably when your parents were small babies, a child named Katie lived in an old gray house with the walls scratched and peeling.
Katie hated playing music of any kind, whether it was drums or flute, saxophone or oboe; but most of all, Katie hated piano.
One bright, moonlit evening, Katie’s mother said as she tucked her into bed, “Katie, we are moving to a new house in one week. You will love it.” But Katie decided that she wouldn’t love it. Katie was a very stubborn little girl.
As the moving day grew nearer, Katie decided that she was glad that they were moving, since there would be no more band classes at her new school. In fact, she was delighted.
The big day finally came, and with it came excitement.
“Katie, did you pack everything that you are taking?”
“Yes, Mum.” Katie answered, lugging a roll-along suitcase down the stairs.
“Fine. Then we’re all ready to go.” Said her dad, checking to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind.

***

Later, in their new neighborhood, Katie’s family pulled into the driveway of the dark, wooden house.
Katie stepped through the door, and gasped at what was in the dining room.
It was a grand piano.

Gradually, over the weeks, Katie got used to it being there, but wouldn’t accept it for part of the house. In fact, she totally ignored it.
But one evening, while they were all eating supper, Katie’s mom brought up the subject of the grand piano.
“You know,” she said “I was thinking that Katie should try out that piano, or it will do us no good just sitting there.”
Katie was not happy.
“I agree!” said her dad cheerfully
“So do I.” Said her brother, just to bug her.
“Arrggg!” yelled Katie, who stomped up to her room.
Katie’s mother was very pleased with her idea, and started classes for Katie with an old lady who didn’t know a metronome from a dynamic.
Katie dreaded Monday mornings at 9’o clock, for that was when she took her lessons.
One day, while practicing gloomily, Katie saw a piece of paper sticking out of a crevice on the side of the grand piano.
“I wonder what this is?” she thought to herself as she carefully pulled it out.
Katie read the note, or letter, since it was addressed to somebody.
It read:

Dear Musician,
Please make use of this wonderful gift that has been sent to you, but remember that time is your enemy. Some other little musician will need it a-fter you, so use your time with it wisely.

With love; Ludwig V. Beethoven

Katie gasped. Beethoven had given the piano to her? It seemed too weird to be true, but it was, for Katie became a piano teacher after many years, and studied music and piano.
But one tragic day, the grown-up Katie entered her music studio, and saw that the time had come and gone for her owning the grand piano, for it had disappeared.
“How do you know all this?” you may ask.
Well, because I was the little child that got that grand piano next.


THE END

Remembering Rachel

My best friend, Rachel, and I were playing dolls in the tree fort one sunny afternoon. I was Mother Barbie, and she was Baby Barbie. We were having a grand time, until Clarissa, Rachel’s four-year-old sister, interrupted us.
First her sticky fingers from the peanut butter and jam sandwiches we had had earlier appeared over the ledge of the tree house door. We didn’t see her then, so there was no stopping her. Her curly, light-haired head peeked out, and her merry, ocean blue eyes peered at us, planning her attack. She jumped from the ladder, and before we knew what had happened, snatched the Barbie doll out of my hand.
“Clarissa! You’re not supposed to be in here, remember!” I yelled.
Her merry eyes suddenly went downcast, and as she dropped the Barbie on the floor, they filled with tears, and without saying anything, she slowly climbed back down the ladder that led up to the top of the tree fort.
“So, where were we?” I asked, picking up the deserted Barbie.
Rachel didn’t answer. She was just staring at the sunny space that Clarissa had climbed down seconds before.
“That wasn’t nice, you know.” She said quietly. Rachel always was as nice as she could be to everyone, including her only sister. She was also very quiet, but on the occasion that she did talk, she always spoke her mind. Other than that, though, she was a great friend.
The bad thing was, Rachel’s time was limited. Rachel had cancer.

This story is an old unfinished one by Megsan. I felt the need to share.
Personal favourite line: other than that, though, she was a great friend.

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