The room was dusty and cramped, as music stores often are, but orderly. Off to the right I heard the feeble attempts of a new violin learner to bring steady notes out of their new half sized violin. Cello had been my instrument for several years now and it was time, my teacher and parents decided, for me to have my own cello. I had been renting the cello I used. Yet I wasn’t so sure about it.
For several years I had played in different orchestras. They all had very good cellists in them and in comparing myself to them I didn’t feel like I played very well at all. I was uncertain if I should even continue the instrument or spend that much of my own money on it, as cellos can be several thousand dollars. Yet I consented to go cello shopping.
The assistant led us into the cello room. Cellos were lined up in little stands all around the room like soldiers at attention. Every cello was uniquely different. Some were bright red and shiny, others were dark maroon, some were orange and others had strips like a tiger. One cello was really heavy, another significantly lighter. Some were nicked with centuries of use. Others were shiny and spotless as if they were made yesterday. Each sounded different. One sounded like strings had been stretched across a cookie tin rather than a carved wooden box, another was soft and mellow, but had no projection.
After an hour or so one cello stood out among the rest. It was a new cello, made the summer before and had a slight orange tint to the wood grain. It had a great bass tone that makes cellos so distinctive and a treble that projected well. Still apprehensive about paying so much for it, I did like it very much.
We took the cello up to the desk to pay for it. When the associate looked up from the computer, I recognized her. “Hi, you are one of the cellist from the youth orchestra, right?” she greeted me. The past year I had been in an orchestra that did chamber groups, groups of 3-5 musicians who would meet with a coach each week and learn a chamber piece. I had liked her better than most of the other coaches. “Are you paying for this cello yourself?” she asked me. “Yes,” I told her. She then went into the other room. When she returned she said, “You were such a dedicated musician when I coached your group and I always enjoyed coaching for you. I talked with the owner and he told me to give you $200 off the price of the cello, to help you on your musical career.”
I couldn’t quite believe what she said. I didn’t think my playing had been noticed at all. And yet she called me a musician and thought I was worth enough to talk to the owner about me. Suddenly I felt that maybe I could be a musician. And at that moment I purposed to live up to the gift with all of the music I played.
If you think back you can probably think of moments in your life when you were noticed and when someone believed in you more than you did. This past Sabbath we talked about the least of these. Sometimes people need food or clothes. And sometimes people need an encouraging word or a simple act that shows faith in who they are and what they can become.
- Pastor Kristen