A piano is a musical instrument, you sit down and allow your fingers to do the magic.
Yes, to me, the beautiful sounds that emanate from the piano when you play are magical.
Whenever I hear a pianist doing his/her work, I usually marvel, I wonder how they were fortunate enough to learn how to do that and even more fortunate to be able to afford their own personal piano.
When I hear the piano being played, it always feels like a group of glowing angels with halos on their head are standing around the pianist, singing along to it’s magical vibrations. I get goosebumps listening to it, I get goosebumps talking about it, I have goosebumps now even as I’m writing about it.
On one fateful Sunday, we just got home from church and I was so excited by this musical instrument once again after hearing it played for two hours straight so I ran with all the power in me to my father.
“Daddy, Daddy please!!! Please please please please please please please please”, ranting on and on like a 10 year old kid. I felt the more times I say the word “please”, the more money would magically appear from somewhere for my dad to buy me a piano.
“STOP”, he shouted sternly, “What do you want?”, he asked.
“Daddy, please please please please please please pleaseeeee!!!!!!!”, he eyed me cautiously. That no-word warning.
“Daddy please can I have a piano?”
He laughed. I smiled, but he laughed even harder, I stopped smiling. I understood that laughter, it was the same laughter he gave my mom when she angrily said she was tired of walking almost everywhere she needed to go ever since she was born and that she needed a car.
The laugh meant, “NOT IN YOUR LIFE”.
I burst into tears and ran into the house, my mom consoled me. “Whatever”, I shrugged, “I’ll just get it when I’m older”.
Well the joke was on me! Wasn’t it? Because things didn’t get totally better when I got older. Yes, I might’ve done some odd jobs and gotten some cash but I had to take care of my whole family, I had to pay my school fees, the money always disappeared as soon as it came in.
The joke was really on me. Because even up till now, ten years after my sad encounter with my dad concerning the piano, I still haven’t been able to get a piano from any source whatsoever.
Which is why I’m here on this platform, begging you for a piano of my own.
I want to learn how to use every key, I want to learn how to make this music that always sweeps me off my feet. I want to get goosebumps while I’m playing by myself, I want to be the one creating this magic, I want to feel like the angels have gathered around me once I take a seat on my piano chair and that they’ve started singing along to my magic once I press the first key.
Oh, the joy.
I’m here begging because I know that you will have pity on me and fulfil this request of mine. I know that you know that a piano actually makes magic and that the world deserves to hear another pianist who has extreme passion for this magic of music.
I know that you are already thinking of how best to help me and I thank you so much for that. I’m begging you to help me.
Please, help me finally get a piano.