A fundraiser concert for victims of a fire happened last night at church. I was working hard in the church office all day, doing the regular duties needed to keep the church running as well as keeping track of the money that was coming in for the fund, photocopying signs and stickers for the envelopes and inserts for the envelopes and anything else that needed doing. I went into the office at 8:30 am and with the exception of two short breaks for lunch and supper, was there until 11 pm. So no post yesterday--I hope you'll forgive me.
It was a great time--the band was Corduroy Road, and a few years from now, when they're swimming in Grammies and Juno Awards, I'll be able to say not only, "I knew them when..." but, "They're friends of mine. I've taken singing lessons from the lead singer."
The chief songwriter in the band, who is also the father and ex-husband of some of the victims, last Sunday apparently asked his wife (the singing teacher), "I'd like to raise about five or six hundred dollars. Do you think we'll get that much?"
He didn't know our folks then as well as he knows them now. We had that much before the service let out last Sunday, and three times that much before the band even played a note.
Another church member and I had a bet--She thought we'd raise five thousand. I was more conservative and said twenty-five hundred. We were both low. It truly was an amazing night.
But one thing made me really sad.
Someone organized a silent auction as part of the evening, and some wonderful treasures were offered for sale, including a set of ten beginner cello lessons from my dearest darling Ally. No talent or cello necessary, just desire to learn to play a beautiful instrument. And you don't even have to stand up to play it!
It didn't go.
Typical was one conversation I had with a friend:
Other Person: I wonder why the cello lessons didn't sell. It was such a wonderful idea, and Ally's a great player.
Me: Why don't you buy them? Put five bucks in the pot--Ally would be delighted to teach you!
OP: Me? Play the cello? Ha!
A five-year-old can do anything. He can dance. She can sing. He can fly like superman. She can save the world.
A five-year-old can draw, paint, garden, play the cello.
An adult knows better.
We can't fly like superman or save the world. We can't really heal boo-boos by kissing them away.
And we certainly can't draw, can't dance, can't sing, can't play.
We've learned so much about living, but we've forgotten how to learn.
Adults are so stupid sometimes.