March 20, 2013
By kkoell99 BRONZE, Barrington, Rhode Island
kkoell99 BRONZE, Barrington, Rhode Island
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The music notes danced across the pages of my music book like bugs that crawled over the musical staff. My fingers trembled on the book as I ventured through the church and searched for the room with the grand piano. I wondered what my first lesson would be like? I had only banged on the black and white keys of our new upright piano- I hoped I wouldn’t sound horrible when I played.
I sauntered through the winding hallways of the church, as my babysitter, Esther and my sister, Lara, followed. My heart pounded against my chest, trying to escape, like a bird in its cage, and I tapped my fingers on my music book. I glanced at each door we ambled by and I scanned the words printed on them, announcing the official titles of ministers and reverends. My thoughts drifted to what my teacher would be like- nice, like all the teachers I’d had at Wheeler? I hoped so.
We strolled by a room where I could hear the pleasant sound of a piano. Esther must have heard it, too, because she pounded on the door. A man with blond hair the color of hay and round glasses, opened the door. He greeted us and told me to come inside. I looked around at the stained glass windows, a rainbow of colors, the chairs lined up like soldiers, and perfectly sharpened pencils like knives, that sat in a jar on top of the piano. The man introduced himself as Brink. I played all the C’s on the piano, followed by the keys of all the other notes. Next, he set a sheet of music with C-major scales in front of me and I plopped down onto the smooth, wooden bench to try them. He showed me the correct fingering but I struggled to remember which note was which. As I strode out the back door of the church, a smile stretched across my face. I glanced down at my music book, which I was now carrying proudly and hoped I would use it next Thursday.
Last week, I got a new flute with silver buttons and a music book filled with notes, but they look less like bugs to me now than when I was six. Each night that week, I tried to blow into it. It took me a few days to make a noise other than blowing and gasping for a breath, but it eventually made a harmonious sound, just like the piano did.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!