She stood beside me, so full of nervous energy that it was impossible for her to be still.
She was ready – had been ready for this moment for weeks. At the ripe old age of seven, she had two piano recitals behind her; tonight, however, was her first time to play the piano in church, with so many eyes focused on her while the offering plates were being passed.
When the time came, she stepped quickly from our row and walked to the front of the auditorium. We had talked through every detail – where to put her book, how to place her hands, when to start playing. As always, my own stomach tightened as I silently prayed for God’s help, for His blessing on all the practice time, for the guiding of her hands.
She began well, the notes from the old hymn “Sweet Hour of Prayer” coming clearly from the piano. She was deep in concentration, her fingers moving from key to key, her confidence rising as she continued. Then it was over; she returned to our seat, another experience richer, one more “first” accomplished.
She is the younger of our two daughters, but we seek to celebrate her “firsts” just as we have her sister’s. It’s not too difficult since her personality is such that playing second fiddle isn’t truly an option. Not one to be overlooked, she soaks in praise and affirmation like a sponge.
My desire is that each of our children is given a chance to shine in her own way, confident in the knowledge that the love and acceptance their father and I offer is unconditional and unending.
This post is linked to Tuesdays Unwrapped hosted by Chatting at the Sky.
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