THE PIANO

I remember, as a small child always being afraid, anxious and terribly shy. I worried constantly about making my mother angry, and then she would yell at me, which was almost worse than the frequent spankings I got for disobeying her rules.
My one act of outright defiance was to run away to the neighbors house 4 doors down the street any time the pull was over powering. I would open the door and walk into the neighbors house and sit down at their piano and begin bouncing my little fingers around the keyboard. Oh, those sounds were so beautiful, so precious to me, and well worth the almost certain spanking I would get when my mother found me. I had strict orders to NOT go running off down the street. But the lure of the magic sounds I could make on that piano was overwhelming.

But far worse was the piano lure at my gramma's house. That piano was across the busy street, and I was totally forbidden to go there, unless an adult could go with me. But the adults could never find time to go with me. So run away I did and for a few glorious moments I could live in another world. But first I would knock on this neghbors door, and the good lady of the house would invite me in, and let me bang on her piano. And then she would call my gramma, letting her know where I had run off to. Gramma would come to get me, and if I was really lucky, she would sit and visit with the kind neighbor for a few golden minutes. And, best of all, gramma would never tell my mother, and I Bless her for that. At least I felt someone was on my side. Someone understood me, and that made the times I stayed with my gramma extra special, and I held those memories close to my heart, so I could take them out and relive them after I went home with my mother. Then I would not feel so lonely and afraid. I knew I would be able to visit my beloved gramma soon. And then I could run away to play my precious piano again.