My friend D. is a man of few words – and those are spoken
very softly. He’s not a highly educated
man, and has a limited range of skills.
This year he’s been dealing with cancer – and he’s responded very well
to the treatments. Still, for a while
this year it was a little scary.
This morning, before church, he asked if he could play a song on his harmonica before the service. I had a song prepared, but was glad to put it aside and to allow him the opportunity.
D. had a cassette tape to play as the accompaniment – it was a Carter Family greatest hits album. We set it up for him with the sound system and pushed play. And D. played along. D.’s harmonica, however, was tuned to a different key than the song he was playing. I don’t think that he knows this. I suppose it doesn’t matter too much, D. only played two notes, back and forth. But he played those two notes loud.
This morning, before church, he asked if he could play a song on his harmonica before the service. I had a song prepared, but was glad to put it aside and to allow him the opportunity.
D. had a cassette tape to play as the accompaniment – it was a Carter Family greatest hits album. We set it up for him with the sound system and pushed play. And D. played along. D.’s harmonica, however, was tuned to a different key than the song he was playing. I don’t think that he knows this. I suppose it doesn’t matter too much, D. only played two notes, back and forth. But he played those two notes loud.
And when the song was finished, he tucked the harmonica into
his shirt pocket and sat down in his regular seat. A couple of people in the congregation applauded
and someone encouraged him, “Way to go D.”
D. may not have great skills, but he does what he can. It was a good morning.
D. may not have great skills, but he does what he can. It was a good morning.
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