Skip to main content

Twelve Days of Blogs Day 7

By

 I first started playing a strong instrument at the age of 8. I started on violin, and my teacher was Frau Hiller. She had a studio in Trier in Germany, and she was just about the most energetic and happy German I think I ever met. She was made to teach music to little kids, and while I'm sure I wasn't always happy to go to my lessons when I was younger, I do remember enjoying the lessons. She picked such fun music for me to learn, and almost all of it was traditional German music printed on sheets of paper with what looked like drawings she had drawn herself. She would use green ink to designate the number finger I was supposed to use on the E string, and red ink for the A string to help me learn how to play music, even when I wasn't reading actual notes. The first lesson, we created a foot mat for me, which I would use for each lesson to help me know how to stand when playing and when at rest. If I remember correctly, mine was yellow. She would use fun magnetized animals to help me understand how much bow to use, and at the end of each lesson, she would let me choose a stamp to stamp on my card. She had a piece of paper on which we would stamp something at the end of each lesson as a prize for a lesson well-done. I remember that the walls of the studio were covered in yellow sheets or something to give it a bright, happy feel. 

I remember my first recital. I would play a piece with other students in her studio, and I'm pretty sure it was in a church of some kind. I do think that I was a pretty good violinist at that age, and I remember that before we started our warm-up rehearsal for the recital, Frau Hiller had me come out in front of the other students to lead them. Well, I had never done anything like that before, and I became super nervous, and messed up a TON! She had me go stand back in my position after that, but I will always feel proud and happy of the fact that I was good then and I had a teacher who believed in me and recognized my talent. I had teachers later in life, some that did believe in me, and others that didn't, but Frau Hiller was the first to help me recognize that I was pretty good at music. 

Those trips each Friday to Trier were basically foreshadowing what we would be doing later in life for music lessons. Trier was a 45 minute drive away, but Mommy would drive us every single week, and when we got older, we began taking lessons in Philadelphia, a solid 4 hours away from State College. There's no stopping music in this family, or the memories that come along with them. After each lesson in Trier, we would stop at the McDonald's on the way out, and get McFlurries. I still have affection for McFlurries because they always make me think of my first violin lessons in Trier with Frau Hiller, and the drive with Mommy, who would continue to support all of us in our musical careers. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Like Dominos....

By
It all began with glare.  Simple, obnoxious, I-can't-stand-it-anymore glare. Our 60" rear projection TV in the family room was basically unviewable except after 10 o'clock at night.  The glare from the windows was making it impossible to see anything during my 10 minute lunch break each day, and something had to change. Too, the TV didn't fit in the entertainment center from Germany.  John, wanting bigger and better, hadn't considered that the space is only 40" wide.  For the past five years, I have been nagged by 6" of overhang on both sides of the TV stand. I went to Lowe's to price blinds.  $1,043 for five blinds, and that was at 20% off. I figured a new TV would be cheaper than that.  I was right, even with the state-of-the-art receiver and new HDMI cables that sly salesman told us we needed to have. But where to put the old TV?  It just needed a quiet, dark place to retire. Glo's bedroom.  Her TV was a relic from the paleoneoneand...
3 comments
Read more

The Quest for Birkenstocks

By
One of the main reasons I go to Germany every couple of years is to restock my supply of Birkenstocks.  I started buying them when I lived there, and I basically can't live without them now.  It just about kills me when a pair runs its course and needs to be thrown away.  I think in my lifetime, I've thrown away only three pairs.  One that never was quite right (the straps were plastic and would cut into my skin after a long day), one pair that I wore gardening one too many times (the brown dirt stains wouldn't come out of the white leather), and the pair that I was wearing when I broke my ankle (they were an unfortunate casualty of broken ankle PTSD because those purple and blue paisleys go down as one of my favorite pairs of all time).  I only threw out the garden ones a couple of days before I left for Germany, because I knew I would be getting a new pair. The only store where I have ever bought my Birkenstocks is Hoffmann's in Speicher.  (Well okay, t...
2 comments
Read more

Thinking Beyond Ourselves

By
In our church, most adults hold a “calling”.  What this really means is they have a job, or a specific way to serve within the local congregation.  We believe that this calling is inspired from God—it’s a specific way that he wants us to serve, so that we can either learn and grow ourselves, or so that we can help someone else. I have had more callings in the church than I can count, and with few exceptions, I have loved every one of them.  I have come to love people (adults, teens and kids) who I might never have met.  I have learned much--from how to organize a Christmas music program, to how to make a Sunday School lesson meaningful to apathetic teenagers.  I have served as president of the children’s organization, and I have been the leader of 30 young, single adults. With every calling comes a lot of work.  Of course, the amount of work one puts into a calling is up to an individual.  I choose to put everything into a calling.  I give up ho...
3 comments
Read more