“Where words fail, music speaks.”Hans Christian Andersen
The music in my life started at a very young age. My mom sang “Jesus Loves Me;” my great aunts taught me “Itsy Bitsy Spider,” and I loved to bang on the old upright piano in what we called the “front” room. I guess my mom got tired of the banging and my begging to learn piano, so lessons started when I was about nine. Once a week, I was allowed to leave class and go to a special room at my school where Mrs. Turpin turned the banging into music. That continued until middle school, when I decided I wanted to join the band and play the flute. Being in the band was wonderful! Trips, competitions, and friendships have weathered the test of time. Little did I know then that there was a special trumpet player who I would marry 16 years later! But that is another story for another time.
Sadly, like many things, what you don’t use you lose, and I am back to picking out notes that might resemble a familiar tune. I regret that I did not continue to play. But I still love music and will always have the foundation that my mother and Mrs. Turpin built into my life many years ago.
Now I want to play songs for my grandchildren to sing along with, so for Valentine’s Day, I asked my husband, Gene, for a Kalimba, which is an African hand harp (Learn a little more about the Kalimba from this video). It’s a beautiful instrument—a handmade work of art all by itself. I play it most every day. The “Wheels on the Bus” never sounded so good!