Ah. The bassoon. Who could ever create a finer sound and look so cool doing so? My dream, ever since I saw it in high school concerts, was to play one. But I never got a chance to learn it. Until...
Ellen and I searched for instruments to rent when I was in my thirties. She could find the ones she wanted: clarinet, flute. Instead, for twenty bucks, she bought a recorder.
Me? The owner of a music store told me I would have to buy bassoon. No one rented them. However, at a cost of $4,000, it wasn't an option. My daughter insisted on eating and having a roof over her head. (Demanding child). So I prayed, "Lord, if you want me to play the bassoon, You'll have to find one."
And guess what? Yep. He did. For ten bucks, I found one in a garage sale. And our band director at school had been a bassoon major. So now you say, "The rest is gravy. God willed it. Presto-virtuoso!"
A few things interfered:
- Abdominal surgery. It's hard to blow a bassoon with belly stitches.
- The said band teacher moved.
- Seven years of traveling to Crane, produced a mediocre player.
- So mediocre, my teacher got a job elsewhere.
Throughout this time, I knew God had answered my prayers. I met my husband who told me about the Adirondack Players. They took me on and taught me to play with a band. A member there alerted me to performance opportunities at Crane. I expanded my skills.
I now play second bassoon in a community band, in addition to first (read: only) bassoon in two other bands. And lo and behold (it's my blog and I can be cliche if I want to), I've been sight reading music, playing fast and accurately and sounding pretty good.
It took many years. It took due diligence and no symphony would ever take me on as even a stage hand, but I'm playing the bassoon.
God answers prayers. Usually not the way we expect, but if we're faithful, we will walk in His perfect way.