Ella's violin

Click, click, click. The rhythm of the metronome was finally getting to me. I looked at the clock.  Ten seconds to go.  Five, four, three, two, one. Beep, beep, beep.  There was the timer. I sighed with relief and put my violin away. I went upstairs to get my discman and put in the Four Seasons. How did they get so good? Of course, I knew the answer: practice, practice, practice. That's all my teacher ever told me. Thank goodness my mom was looking for a new teacher. According to her, she was scheduling a trial lesson right now. 

"Ella." There was my mom.

"What?"  I called back.

"How about June 3?"

"That's in two days."

"Yeah."

"Sure."

"Do you want to come listen to a video of him?"

"Coming." I got up and went downstairs. "Let me see." I went over to where Mom had the computer and peered over her shoulder.

As soon as I heard the music, I was amazed. I could almost see the notes floating toward me out of the computer. I knew I had to go to this teacher, whatever it took.

- 3 years later - 

I fell on the bed in tears. Three years I thought, pounding the pillow. Three years, and still he wouldn't accept me! Then I got an idea.

What if I played and got his attention? He'd know I am a great violinist. But that would mean playing in public I thought. Oh well, things come with sacrifices. I went downstairs and told my mom about it. 

"Well, would you be okay doing it in public?" she asked.

"Whatever it takes," I said.

"All right," my mom said.

I thought I saw a glimmer in her eyes that wasn't there before, but then it was gone and Mom walked away. 

I slouched back upstairs and begrudgingly did my math homework, but my violin was very distracting. It shone in the sun and seemed to radiate the sunlight. Right at that moment, 

my mom called me downstairs for dinner. I ate happily thinking of the next day and what it would bring. 

“Ella, are you sure you want a new teacher?” my dad asked.

“Yes, Dad, I do.” 

“Okay,” said my dad, looking not so sure.

 I excused myself, kissed my mom and dad goodnight, and tiptoed upstairs to bed. I lay in bed thinking, did I really need a new teacher? I drifted to sleep on this thought. 

"Ella, Ella, ELLA!" I woke up to my mom shaking me.

"It's time to go to your violin lesson."

"Already?" 

"You slept in."

I looked at the clock. It was 11:10. I had twenty minutes until my lesson. I scrambled out of bed and got dressed at the speed of light. I grabbed my violin and raced to the car. Staring out the window, I was thinking about what was to come. We were there in no time.

I scooted out of the car and knocked on my teacher's door. He welcomed me inside and we had our lesson as usual, but for the first time, it was different. I noted the way the music took over, like my teacher was the instrument and my violin was the ultimate teacher. At that moment I decided - it wasn't what teacher it was - my teacher was a great violinist - it was just I didn't put enough heart into my playing. 

So I was going to stay with my teacher. The pressure had been relieved. Now, I didn’t have to play to impress a person, I played to express my heart. When it was my turn to play, I closed my eyes, and let my bow fly across the strings, pouring everything into my playing. I got lost in my music, my body swaying with the notes. All the nerves floated away, and I knew this is where I belonged. For a quick moment, the world made sense. I opened my eyes and lifted my bow off the strings, feeling proud. This new perspective changed this lesson and every lesson afterward. Coming back to reality, I noticed my teacher, wide-eyed and still. He sat there, staring. Oh no! What did I do? Did I play it right?

My teacher shook off his stupor and said, "Ella, I have to tell you something. Your mom said you were looking to play in public, so I got you to play at Disneyland."

Oh no! I thought. Mom thinks I want to get a new teacher! I forgot! I started, "That's very kind of you, but-"

"No buts," my teacher interrupted. "I'm sure you'll do great."

"Yes, me too," I said, "though..."

"Don't worry; you will be fine." He looked at his watch. "Whoa, look at the time. It is nearly time for my next lesson. You can pack up now."  And before I knew it, I was on my way home.

I had a mix of emotions. Am I nervous? Am I excited? Whatever it was, I was glad I didn’t have to play with the pressure of earning myself a new teacher. For the next month, I’d skip all my other extras to do violin. Soccer, movie nights, and playing with friends could all wait. This was more important than anything else. I would lose myself in the rhythm of my practice. For the people who hear me play, I just want them to value music in the kind of way that changes lives.

I took a deep breath. Here I go. I closed my eyes and let myself melt into the music. All my practice and sacrifices paid off: the melody poured out of me and into the hearts of those who were listening. When my arms relaxed by my sides, people were cheering all around me, some with tears in their eyes. Mom came up and congratulated me. I was ecstatic. We talked about it all the way home. 

The next day, when I was back to doing my homework, my mom said, "Hey Ella, the teacher you wanted just texted. He said he would accept you." 

"That's okay, Mom. I don’t need him. When I wanted him, I didn't know something really important:  no matter what people say, you are you, and I? I am a violinist."