Beech Tree News Network

Last Tuesday evening, my granddaughter, Sabria, got out her little guitar and tried to play a tune.  Ten minutes later she was in the kitchen, where I was cooking dinner.  “I’m terrible at the guitar,” she said, “I’m going to see if Papa will let me play his banjo.”  Garey’s banjo belonged to his grandfather Hughes, and is more of an heirloom than a playable banjo, but Garey gets it out from time to time to try his hand at picking a tune.  Garey and Sabria strummed and picked a bit on the banjo until they both thought they’d had enough then Sabria came into the kitchen and announced she wasn’t very good at the banjo, either. 

               On Thursday evening, the Bluegrass band, One Fret Over, was scheduled to do a concert at the Eva Hawes building in Morgantown.  I wanted to make sure I got Sabria to that concert for two reasons: one, the band is made up of four young kids, two of which are the grandchildren of Kaye and Roger Moore (Five Seasons Flower Shop), and secondly, I wanted Sabria to see a young girl play a musical instrument successfully. 

               When we arrived Thursday evening, Sabria insisted we sit on the front row, so she could see.  I told her if we did, she would have to be very quiet, so as not to disturb the people behind us.  Because she is a little girl, and little girls have lots of questions about other little girls who play fiddles, I had to shush her a few times, but overall, she was focused on enjoying the music.

               As soon as the fifteen minute break began, it was like a dam burst, and all of the questions and comments about the performance came pouring out of her.  I asked if she wanted to meet the girl who played the fiddle, and she said yes she did, so I took her over and introduced her to Grace Bemus.  Grace is twelve years old.  She told Sabria she has been playing the fiddle since she was six.  I asked Grace a question for Sabria’s sake, but I didn’t get the answer I expected.

               “When you first started playing, did you get frustrated or discouraged when you couldn’t make your instrument sound like you wanted it to sound?” I asked. 

               “No, not really,” she said, “I knew I wouldn’t be very good at first, because I was doing something I had never done before.”

               That response floored me, especially that response from a twelve-year-old.  Do you understand what level of maturity it takes to have that kind of frustration tolerance, not to mention the kind of maturity it takes to have realistic expectations of yourself?  (This observation from a woman who once shot out her bedroom window while shooting a BB pistol at a tin can placed in a direct line to said window, because she never considered the possibility that she might miss—true story.)

               Most of us who play musical instruments have had times when it took every bit of self-control we could muster not to throw the thing out an upstairs window or off a parking garage or into a busy street at rush hour.  I play guitar, and it took me years to embrace the guitar-player’s mantra, “Anything worth doing is worth doing badly.”  I can’t imagine understanding that at six years old.  Yeah, Grace has an edge on most of us.  She pretty much has her pick of career paths—Ambassador to the UN comes to mind.

                After the concert, on the drive home, Sabria announced she wanted to learn how to play the fiddle.  I remember when I decided I wanted to play a guitar.  I was in the third grade, and a little boy who was younger than I was brought his guitar to our class.  He played and sang two songs, and I was so inspired by that performance, I wanted to do the same.  Kids relate to kids.  They awaken dreams inside one another, and they make aspirations seem possible.

Maybe, I will get Sabria a fiddle for Christmas.  Hopefully, she won’t throw it out of an upstairs window.