by Maureen Long
I made a new friend recently. It was quite unexpected and it took me by surprise.
When the driver delivered her to my front door, he set her down in my small apartment dining room. She sat there quietly, without saying a word so I let her be. During the following weeks, I went about my business around the house and glanced at her now and then. Still nothing.
She looked a little road weary, so I decided to clean her up a bit. I rolled up my sleeves and started scrubbing. She seemed to like it because below the years and layers was a fine lady. As I sanded her keyboard cover a beautiful fragrance lifted out of the wood grain. I said, “My, but that is a marvelous perfume you’re wearing.” “Yes, its my favorite and I always wore it when I performed,” she responded.
Then the floodgates opened and she began to tell me about her life. She was born in Chicago around the turn of the century and her name then was Anna. She traveled widely and was played in concert halls, churches, dance halls and schools. Her favorite performances were always with children attending.
In the last part of the night when the tree frogs sing and the morning birds wake, Anna is the happiest. So she and I decided to include Nature’s Musicians on her new coat. They’re painted on all sides of the piano so when melodies are being played on the keyboard, onlookers can become detectives. Find the crooners of the deep ocean, the serenader of the wetlands and the crashing of the waterfall.
Now, because some very nice people rescued her, she’s all spruced up, and ready to be played again and again.
We thank you.