The Beginner A p r i l 17, 2 01 5
(This poem is based on the thoughts and recollections of band parents, as shared with me in conversations and letters over the years. My years at S. J. Welsh Middle School were so special to me. My greatest joy was teaching the beginners. It was so inspiring to see them transform into young musicians right before my eyes…year after year. Likewise, it was an amazing transformation, witnessed by so many parents.) The sound, that came out from the horn, was not, a pleasant one. Our child’s first night, of practicing. Worried. “What have I done?” I bought that horn. But now, had doubts. My wife, just smiled and said. “It’ll get better. Just wait and see.” I tried, to hide my dread. One week later, I still did cringe. Each practice, that I heard. Sounded too much, like a duck call. I searched the sky, for birds. It took a month, before I heard, what seemed to be, a horn. Came none too soon. I thanked the Lord. My nerves, were raw and worn. As holiday season approached, there was, a real surprise. Was that, a melody I heard? And almost, recognized? Thanksgiving, was drawing closer. “That is, a Christmas song!” My wife did laugh, and poked my ribs. I softly, sang along. Some of the sounds, being produced, more pleasing, to the ear. The progress, was encouraging. Had quelled, most of my fears. Christmas Concert, was packed that night. Beginners, were ready. Director smiled, and led the group. Songs, both bright and merry. My respect for him, grew greatly. How much, he had endured. Hundred beginners. Taught each day. A “saint,” must be for sure. We stood and cheered. Each song so clear. It was, a Christmas gift. Lifelong memory, of that night, always gives me, a lift. With spring, there was more improvement. Each day, new songs were played. After many months, of practice, my pride, was on display. 26
