In Time

(Amelia on Christmas day, opening her new backpack from Uncle Jonnie and Aunt Courtney.)

Alan was in L.A. this past weekend, and Sunday it was my turn to play piano for the Breaking of Bread service. I was sitting on the platform and the girls were in the front row where I could see them. 

I had told them before the service they could leave to go get me some tissues from the bathroom--to give them a break. They left to do that. Upon returning, Amelia walked up onto the platform and handed me a bunch of tissues--stuck inside one of those white paper bags from the top of the toilet tank that are meant for disposal of sanitary napkins. Not many people noticed, but the one woman who did could hardly contain her laughter. She and I could not make eye contact.

As the service continued, the girls began whispering more and more to one another, and at an increasing volume. Amelia was being particularly goofy, so I motioned to her to come up to me and made her sit on the floor, facing me w/her back to the congregation. Then someone called out a hymn and I had to play. During the song, I could see from my peripheral vision that Amelia was no longer facing me. And she was not sitting still. She was conducting.

My piano skill level does not enable me to do anything besides look at the music and play. I had to decide which would be more distracting--a six year old conductor (whom many, I hoped, would not notice because their noses were in their hymnals) or messy piano playing (which would cause people to look up.) I kept playing.

After the service, a young woman came up to me, smiling, and said, "Nice conducting this morning!" I laughed and said, "Yeah--she was SUPPOSED to be in 'time out.'" She chuckled, paused then replied, "Well.. she was IN TIME."