Until recently, I’ve never thought about what a person’s
musical instrument says about him or her. But now that I am the mother of an
aspiring French-horn player, I’ve had opportunity to think about it in great
depth. For hours. While she’s playing, playing, playing the French horn.
This is my 10-year-old, Addison. She has played the piano
for four years and has entertained us with her own original works, such as “Mommy’s
In the Shower Cleaning Stinky Body” and “Nobody Cares for Addison.” (The latter
is truly amazing, lyrics not withstanding, and I think she should play it for
her next recital.) About a year ago, she decided she wanted to follow in the
footsteps of her piano teacher/cousin and play the French horn. At that time, I
didn’t know a French horn from a car horn, so I set out to learn more.
The French horn is hard to play. For this reason, few people
choose to play it. It requires massive wind and a keen ear, neither of which I
knew if my daughter had. What I did know was that I would never choose the French horn. I never played any musical instrument
at all, and if I had, my two requirements would have been these:
1)
Are my friends playing it?
2)
Is it easy?
And yet I have somehow managed to play a key role in the
creation of a child who not only wants to play as many musical instruments as
possible, but who wants to play whatever is unique and whatever is too hard for
most people. Not only that, but she’s fiercely determined. We went to the music
store to try all sorts of different instruments, and she willingly agreed. But it
was the French horn we left with. Because it’s hard.
So status-quo-loving me finds herself with a fearless child
who plans to spend her life in Indonesia and a determined child who will not be
persuaded to take the easy way out. Clearly, God enjoys irony.
