Falling Piano - 2

The tragedy of the piano struck me with such an intensity that I could not let the feeling go. I was moved to compassion as I considered the sacrifices made so one family could enjoy the gift of music. Some family willingly parted with the instrument to make it available at low cost in a thrift store. Certainly the parents had rejoiced when they found an answer to their dream of owning a piano for their home. I imagine the sense of accomplishment and fulfillment as they loaded the piano into that old truck.

Considering the elation they must have felt, I was able to empathize, with honed emotions, their loss when the piano tipped and fell from the truck, crashing to unforgiving concrete street. The pile of wood, strings, and keys littered the road in a concentrated disaster that cried out for a solution. What could I do? The piano did not have a crack or a missing leg that needed to be repaired. The destruction stopped just sort of disintegration. It was a total loss and I felt totally helpless.

Upon arriving home, I shared the awful news with my wife who was equally moved. The sinking feeling would not go away and my heart remained troubled. I had to help. I needed to extend an offer that would soothe the anguished soul. This was not just a piano. That instrument embodied the hopes and dreams of a mother. The life lessons of dedication, grace and beauty waited to be learned through practice, progress and discovery.

Musicianship develops a world view that allows expansive consideration as well as focussed introspection. The absence of a piano in the home does not doom a child nor a family to a meaningless existence, but there is a significance that can only be discovered through persistence and dedicated effort while mastering those 88 keys. I felt compelled to offer hope in the face of deep despair.

I found the telephone number and contacted the manager of the thrift store. I told him that I had seen the piano fall and the heartache I had witnessed. I let him know that I wanted to help. He let me talk as I admitted that I did not know the price of the piano, the name of the people who bought the piano and I didn't even know if they had another piano available. But I let him know that I wanted to help. I could not offer thousands of dollars, but I could probably contribute 1500 dollars. I even offered to pay a modest monthly amount if only I could ease that suffering.

In the end, I didn't have to do anything. They indeed had access to another piano and they had already made the arrangements to have it delivered. I experienced inexplicable relief and felt a surge of hope for the goodness of humanity and I remember that even in the darkest hours good people are watching and looking for ways to help.