A Musical Number

About a month ago, our hero received a phone call from a sister in the ward to ask if she would be willing to perform for an adult Christmas dinner program that she was putting together.

Her first suggestion was that our hero sing a solo. Over the next second before she replied, the following thoughts passed through our hero's head:

1. I enjoy singing.
2. I sing at home by myself all the time.
3. I've never actually sung a solo in public that I can remember other than in Primary when I was chorister, and that was just to show the kids how they were supposed to sing so it doesn't really count.
4. I used to sing duets with my sister all the time when we were young.
5. I sang a duet with my mom at my missionary farewell.
6. I sing with the ward choir, and I sang with a small group a few months ago.
7. I don't sing enough to have the kind of range that I used to have.
8. I seem to have a perpetual cold that makes it hard to sing the way I wish I could.
9. I auditioned for chamber choir when I was a senior in high school and didn't make it, so my voice isn't particularly good. 
10. I would have to find someone to play the piano to accompany me and that would involve talking to people and asking them for help, which is scary.

After that second, our hero (not so heroically) told her that if it was in a small group or even a duet, she'd be okay with it, but she'd rather not sing a solo.

Her next suggestion was that our hero play a piano solo. Feeling guilty for having told her no before, our hero quickly agreed to that. She told our hero she had some music for "What Child is This" and our hero asked her how difficult it was (thinking she would need something fairly simple if she was going to have it ready to perform in only a month.) After some discussion over the phone about how many tic-tac-toe signs or things that look like "b"s are at the beginning of each line, (just one tic-tac-toe sign on the top line of each group of lines that starts with a thing that looks like a fancy backwards S) our hero suggested that she bring it to church so she could take a look at it, and then the sister suggested that our hero find something that she could play. She told her she'd find something and let her know what it was the next day at church.

Our hero set out on her quest. She tried playing some pieces that her older sister had written. She looked through books. She looked online for intermediate level piano solos. Our hero finally settled on a version of "O Holy Night" arranged by Jenifer Cook. She played it through and it didn't seem too easy - it would be interesting to listen to. And it wasn't too hard - She thought she'd be able to learn it and be comfortable performing it in the time allotted. She let the sister know, and began practicing. She played it every day for the next month. At first, she played it to learn the notes. She repeatedly practiced some sections where the fingering was tricky. After a while, she began to add a couple notes here and there to fill in some of the chords and add emphasis to some parts. She added a repeat to add a second verse. With Steven's encouragement, she added more dynamics, getting louder and softer. She continued to play through the song every day, often several times in the day. The week before the performance, she took advantage of times that she was at the church for institute and scouts to play the piece over and over on the piano at the church to get a feel for the piano she would most likely be playing on. 

Finally the day of the dinner arrived. Our hero remembered to bring her music. (She had worried about that, and hadn't yet memorized the piece.) The dinner began with salad and rolls. The program began simultaneously with talk about the colors of Christmas and similarities between Santa Claus and Christ. Another musical sister sat at the piano to play "What Child Is This". As our hero listened to the simple melody, she thought to herself, "I could have played that, and it would have been so much easier."  The dinner continued with ham and vegetables. Our hero, Hannah, played "Away in a Manger" on her viola with her friend on the violin. It was beautiful. A family sung a song together. More talks about Christmas colors. A delicious pumpkin roll was served for dessert.

At last the moment came when the sister who was directing looked at our hero, and it was her turn to play. She took her place at the piano and set up her music in front of her. She placed her fingers on the keys and began to play. A measure into it, she realized she had lost her place! What note was she playing? Where was she? After about a half a second (which wasn't really noticeable because she had started out playing really slow anyway) she found her place and continued playing. Her hands were shaking and her heart raced, but she concentrated on what she had practiced: soft, growing, loud, soft again...  Finally, she was done. The last note lingered in her head as she collected her music, vaguely aware of the applause as she returned to her seat. Several minutes later, as she reached for her water glass, she realized that her hands still shook, and she had to take the glass in two hands to keep it from spilling. 

Finally, the dinner was over. Our hero and her heroically supportive husband, Steven, stood up from the table. They were met by the sister who had organized the program.

"You did great!" She said. 

"Thanks." our hero replied. 

"What was all that about not being able to play anything difficult? That was wonderful! Someone told me that you taught yourself to play?"

Our hero was about to explain that while she hadn't had formal piano lessons, her mother had taught her to play when Steven jumped in, "It's in her genes."

"What?"

"Her whole family is musical. Her mom leads choirs, her older sister composes music. Everyone in her family sings in parts. Music is in her genes!"

Our hero listened to this while mentally shaking her head (and her hands were still shaking, too.) Yes, she comes from a musical family, but in some ways, she feels like the black sheep of the family. She can play hymns because those are what she plays most often. Anything else is questionable. Yes, she sings in choirs and groups where her voice won't stand out, but she feels very uncomfortable singing alone, being center of attention. With hours and hours of preparation she could pull off a piano solo, but she wondered if she would ever become comfortable with it. 

Later she remembered that the first time she ever conducted the music in Sacrament Meeting or taught a lesson in Relief Society, her hands had shaken like crazy, too. And yet, after doing it every week, or every month, the shaking had gone away, and she had grown to enjoy it. She wondered if playing piano solos could become easier too. 

The following morning the ward had a breakfast with Santa, for which our hero had been asked the day before if she could play "Jingle Bells" and "Here Comes Santa Claus". She had found some music, and began playing, not worried too much because she was supposed to be accompanying singing. Unfortunately, no one was really singing. She stumbled through the song anyway. Then went on to the other one. She was grateful when Santa arrived and she could leave the piano. Anyway, she thought, that will disabuse anyone of the notion that I'm a really good piano player who can just sit down and play anything!