Giggle Snort With A Side Of Stringed Cheer!

I'm feeling a bit giddy. It's 10 p.m. The girls are asleep. And Husband and I just got news. Really. good. news.

It's not really our news. It's Fifi's news. But no way am I waking her to share it because she'll be awake all night -- for sure.

We have been expecting this news for days. I've been obsessively frequently checking email for this news. I've been looking every 3 or 4 minutes, actually. And with Fifi's blessing.

See...

Our little girl has wanted to play the violin since she was 3 years old. Back then, she spent a couple of years pretending to play with a miniature mop and broom for an instrument and bow.

Once, during a Sunday night "hymn sing" at a little Baptist church down the street -- which was not our own -- Fifi introduced herself to the preacher after the service. He had a big ole' guitar strapped around his torso, and so she went up to him -- musician to musician -- and told him that she played the violin. I winked over her shoulder to say that she was speaking about her imaginary violin.

He smiled and invited her to bring it with her the next time she came.

And so she did. Because little children have memories like elephants that way.

It was a precious moment when Preacher invited 4-year old Fifi to come up and play a duet with him. He wasn't blind. He could see that her violin was really a child's plastic housekeeping toy. But maybe he could also see the bigger picture. And perhaps he could hear the Savior whispering, "Suffer not..."

I can't remember what they "played," but I do remember that I will never forget Preacher for his kindness to my girl. With that small sacrificial gesture before his congregation of about a-dozen-or-so folks, he validated her dream. And I'm convinced he inspired her to keep dreaming.

We stopped by his house on the way home from lessons one day last summer. I wanted him to hear what she could do now. I wanted him to know that I was grateful. Too often, we don't let people know the impact they've had on us. We worry about feeling strange or looking silly.

Life's too short.

As it turns out, these past years have brought change for all of us. Preacher is retired now. He cares for his wife who had a stroke last year and lives in a wheelchair. But he still straps that guitar on, smiles big and plays with the church band.

He's still making the least of us feel welcome and useful in The Kingdom.

But back to my story...

6 years later, Fifi has studied with 3 different teachers. And because she home-schools, and because we weren't willing to give up Sunday afternoons for the local youth orchestra rehearsals, Fifi has diligently spent all that time -- summer and semester alike -- practicing. Practicing for the next lesson, the occasional recital -- and not much more.

Great things have been accomplished in those 6 years. Fifi has developed great discipline by being a musician. She has benefited from the ear-training that the Suzuki method affords. She has found an outlet to express herself...and to praise her Creator.

Fifi is not a music phenom.

But apparently she is a hard enough worker and good enough musician to be awarded a place with the 2nd violins in the senior-level orchestra she auditioned for Monday night. They liked her! They really liked her!

Without much idea as to how she stacked up, musically, to other home-schooling musicians, we kinda, sorta hoped she might get a high chair placement on the intermediate level. We are a little unnerved, a bit surprised, and a whole lot excited for her!

It's going to be a great year!