We went to my son’s Christmas recital on Saturday. I know some find such events tedious, but I’ve always enjoyed them—even more so now because the time is short.
My son began his lessons with this teacher in 2nd grade. Before that, my dear friend taught him sporadically at home. In fact, she was the one who encouraged me to find him a teacher to keep him going. So we did.
When he was younger, I loved the recitals because I got to see where we were headed. This teacher always had several older boy students, so it was good for my son to have role models and aspirations to keep going. In those middle years, it was seeing where he’d come from as we watched the youngest performers and where this road would lead with the older ones.
Now, at 16, he’s one of the older ones. And while the more classical pieces he plays in his lesson domain are not his most favorite—he prefers the two praise bands, school and church, that he plays with—I’m so proud of him for sticking with it. I love the discipline it brings to his playing and the things he continues to learn that help him be a creative asset to those worship teams.
Two more years of Christmas recitals and it will be over. I want to hold on and enjoy every minute until then.
No comments:
Post a Comment