When I was 6 years old my Papa bought me this piano. I wasn't even old enough for the lessons and had to wait until I was 7 to start. I took lessons until I was 14 or 15 years old and have rarely played since. I don't know why...maybe it was the piano teacher that wasn't very inspiring or caring, or maybe it was more Papa's dream than mine.
Even though it isn't played much, it is one of my most precious possessions. I remember the way I felt seeing it for the first time almost 34 years ago - this large, important "thing" that appeared in the house and it was mine. I knew it was expensive and I couldn't believe Papa had bought it. Today it reminds me of the potential and the trust that was given to me in a big wooden package.
I truly wish I had cared more about playing, but I have always cared about my piano.
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