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The Old Church: The Piano Player




For the next several weeks I will be posting all the parts to this series I started a few years ago. This is part 4.


It is another typical Sunday at The Old Church. In usual fashion people are slowly staring to come in. Gathering about with the morning greetings to the friends they know and the rare visitor that has come in. Finding their seats as they prepare for the Mass. A time of busyness and chatter. The Man is already found his spot for the morning. Giving him a wonderful view of those around him. Taking all that is going on in while he spends a few moments in prayer.


From the back of the church the fellow slowly starts to walk up. He is pretty new to the parish. Someone who came from another church. In his hands he carries a bag full of large books. They are the tools of his personal craft. A showcase of songs and hymns of the past and present. An older fellow who’s face tells the story of a man who has seen much of the world. Yet he hardly says a word. When he does the words are often soft and humble. He slowly makes his way up to the piano. Well aware of how much time he has before Mass begins. More so since he’s not the parish organist. This short time before Mass is the only time he will play.


The fellow pulls out a few selections from the bag and sets them before the piano. The sounds of the ruffling of pages causes a slight stillness to come about the entire church. The congregation is well aware of the fellow and wait to hear what selections he has for them today. They want to take in every sound of every note. They are quickly rewarded when the fellow starts to play. He keeps his music to the hymns of the church. Songs that are old as they are timeless. Each note hanging in the air for all but an eternity. The man loses himself for a moment in the music. The stresses of life momentary forgotten.


As he listens to the music. The man is reflecting on the life that he has lived so far. A time to seek out God in all things. He wonders if he can use his own talents in the service of Christ. As it seems that the fellow has done. The way the music is played is often a reflection of what is in someone's heart. The passion one must have to commit to a single task. It comes though the hands and in away becomes it's own form of prayer. A thought not lost on The man. As he watches the fellow play. He can see everything coming together. Such a powerful reminder of the gifts we are given and the choices we have to share them with others.


Time moves at it’s own pace. The world forgotten in the music. Yet all things must come to and end and the fellow’s time is now up. Just as slowly as he set things out. The follow gathers his music and begins to head to his seat. The church offers up an applause in gratitude. Yet the fellow blushes and just nods his head. He’s told The man before that he is not a fan of the applause. He plays because has this gift. He has a love of the piano and enjoys these rare moments to share his talents. While the reaction is nice. It is not why he does this. To have a passion for what you do means that you have to be willing to share it with everyone. A message that the fellow truly believes. It is why he enjoys coming out before Mass. Thankful for the chance to do this. Which is why just about every Sunday before Mass you can hear him play. Sharing his God given talents inside The Old Church. /fin



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