When I was young, my father often entertained us by playing his fiddle – the same fiddle his father played. Although neither of them took lessons, they could play almost any song requested.
Sometimes the community club would ask my father to play at the local square dances. These outings provided good exercise and
wholesome fun.
As far back as I can remember, I wanted to play the fiddle, too. I would practice faithfully, and my father was very encouraging and supportive. However, it soon became evident that I didn’t have much musical ability.
After several weeks of practice, all I could play – and not very well – was Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. So, I made the decision to give up my dream of playing the fiddle.
My father assured me I was talented in many ways and cited my interest in drawing. He said the drawings in my study books were proof.
So, with my father’s loving encouragement, I grew up to become an artist.
Monrovia, Ind.
