Miranda unlocked the door to her apartment and walked inside. Usually, she would have finished some homework or gone straight to sleep if she didn't have any, but tonight she was going to do something she hadn't done in a long time.
She went to her room and rummaged through her closet until she found what she was looking for: the leather case that held her violin. Sitting down on the edge of her bed, she carefully opened the case and took out her instrument. She placed it under her chin and drew the bow across two of the strings.
She winced. Instead of the two notes being a perfect fourth interval, the clashed at an augmented fourth. In other words, the violin was in serious need of a tune up.
After spending about fifting minutes playing a string, then turning the knob, the playing again, going through this process with each string, she again brought the instrument under her chin and played the two strings.
They blended in perfect harmony.
She played a scale, making sure to place her fingers in exactly the right place on the strings so that the right note would come out. Then she played Brahms' Lullabye, which, for some reason, was the only song that she could remember at the moment, even though she knew it was corny.
Lullabye and goodnight,
With roses delight ...
Instead of focusing on the song, she focused on the notes, making sure that they weren't out of tune, because it was very easy to press down the string at the wrong place.
She finished the song and was about to go back into her closet to pull out some of her old music when she heard a knock at the door.
She went over to the door and opened it to find that the woman who lived directly underneath her was on the other side.
"I'm sorry, was I bothering you?" Miranda mumbled apologetically.
"No," she said, "I just didn't know you could play the violin."
"Oh," Miranda replied, "well, I haven't played it in a while."
"You're very good," she commented.
"Thanks," Miranda said.
"You actually got my two-year-old to sleep,"
This comment caused Miranda to show her rare smile.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Declan's alarm clock went off and he woke up, confused. The alarm clock wasn't supposed to go off. He looked at the time and groaned. It was six o'clock in the morning. Who wakes up at six o'clock on Sunday?
He had a feeling he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, so he got up from bed, mumbling something about his alarm clock deciding to break on a Sunday.
After taking his shower, Declan stood in front of his mirror. That's when it hit him. When he thought about it for a moment, he reasoned that it was probably a good thing he had gotten up early.
He went to his closet and dug out his suit. When he had dressed himself, he went out the door.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Declan knocked on the door of his mother's house. In about a minute, she opened the door.
"Declan!" she exclaimed happily.
"Hi, Ma," Declan said, "I thought I'd come and escort you to mass."
"Thank-you, Declan," she said.
"No problem," Delcan said as he offered his mother her arm, which she accepted.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy drove past the church for the fourth time.
This morning she had felt the sudden urge to just go out for a drive. It was like she was led here. She was now going around the block, circling around the church.
Why was she here? Even if she did want to go to church, it wouldn't start for another half hour. Hadn't she made her decision three years ago?
Lately she had been doubting her decision. Actually, she'd been doubting it ever since she started getting to know Declan. Something about him renewed her hope. It made her think that maybe there *was* a god out there somewhere.
A barrier had built up inside her. She always had this feeling that if she ever went back to church, she wouldn't be able to handle it without Adam. It would bring back too many sad memories. Last night's concert had been a breakthrough for her. She had realized that she could remember him in a good way, not focusing on his death, but the way his life had impacted her. She knew that if he was looking down at her right now, he wouldn't want her to give up church because of him.
She was now on her sixth lap around the block, and this time when she passed the church, she turned decidedly into the parking lot.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy sat in the back of the sanctuary, just looking at it.
It was exactly as she remebered it.
There were blue stained glass windows lining both sides of the church, dotted with stars. Each star has a prism inside of it that would spread little rainbows throughout the sanctuary whenever the sunlight hit it just right. Today was a sunny day, so the windows that were facing east filled the sanctuary with colors.
One of the rainbows landed directly at the foot of the cross in the front. It was a large wooden cross, about twelve feet high, with a purple cloth draped across it for the season of Lent.
It was just so beautiful that all Peggy could do was sit there and stare at it.
"Peggy?" a familiar voice asked. She looked up.
"Pastor Harrison," she said.
"You've come back," he said.
Peggy smiled, "Yeah,"
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Chloe stared at the staff paper that she had proped up on the music stand on her piano. Written on the pages were the notes that made up her best work yet: a piece for a string orchestra.
It was almost finished. She just had to think up the perfect ending. She had been sitting here for almost two hours now, playing possible endings on the piano, sometimes starting to write one in, but then realizing that it wouldn't work. It was a good thing her pencil had a good eraser.
She only needed one or two more measures, maybe three, but they were probably the most important measures in the whole piece. They had to be something origional; they had to capture someone's attention.
Suddenly, and idea dawned on her. Maybe she could have them play the last phrase really loud -- fortissimo -- once, and then they could go down an octave, turn the volume down quite a bit -- mezzo piano, maybe -- and slow down for a quiet, yet grand ending. Maybe she could even put a grand pause right before the ending for an added effect, and a firmata on the last note. She turned the idea over in her head, then fingered the notes on the piano.
That was it! That was the perfect ending! She quickly wrote the notes out on the staff paper, then went over the whole thing in her mind, going over all of the crescendos and decrescendos, all of the solos and the full orchestra parts. This was, no doubt about it, the best work she had ever done. She smiled as she closed her composition book and sat down on her couch.
She loved composing. It was so much fun to come up with origional melodies in her head, and then make up harmonies to go with it until it came out to be a musical piece. She didn't care if they ever got published or if anyone ever heard them. She was happy with experiencing the joy of music. Maybe, without her even knowing it, her music would touch the lives of other people.
She went to her room and rummaged through her closet until she found what she was looking for: the leather case that held her violin. Sitting down on the edge of her bed, she carefully opened the case and took out her instrument. She placed it under her chin and drew the bow across two of the strings.
She winced. Instead of the two notes being a perfect fourth interval, the clashed at an augmented fourth. In other words, the violin was in serious need of a tune up.
After spending about fifting minutes playing a string, then turning the knob, the playing again, going through this process with each string, she again brought the instrument under her chin and played the two strings.
They blended in perfect harmony.
She played a scale, making sure to place her fingers in exactly the right place on the strings so that the right note would come out. Then she played Brahms' Lullabye, which, for some reason, was the only song that she could remember at the moment, even though she knew it was corny.
Lullabye and goodnight,
With roses delight ...
Instead of focusing on the song, she focused on the notes, making sure that they weren't out of tune, because it was very easy to press down the string at the wrong place.
She finished the song and was about to go back into her closet to pull out some of her old music when she heard a knock at the door.
She went over to the door and opened it to find that the woman who lived directly underneath her was on the other side.
"I'm sorry, was I bothering you?" Miranda mumbled apologetically.
"No," she said, "I just didn't know you could play the violin."
"Oh," Miranda replied, "well, I haven't played it in a while."
"You're very good," she commented.
"Thanks," Miranda said.
"You actually got my two-year-old to sleep,"
This comment caused Miranda to show her rare smile.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Declan's alarm clock went off and he woke up, confused. The alarm clock wasn't supposed to go off. He looked at the time and groaned. It was six o'clock in the morning. Who wakes up at six o'clock on Sunday?
He had a feeling he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, so he got up from bed, mumbling something about his alarm clock deciding to break on a Sunday.
After taking his shower, Declan stood in front of his mirror. That's when it hit him. When he thought about it for a moment, he reasoned that it was probably a good thing he had gotten up early.
He went to his closet and dug out his suit. When he had dressed himself, he went out the door.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Declan knocked on the door of his mother's house. In about a minute, she opened the door.
"Declan!" she exclaimed happily.
"Hi, Ma," Declan said, "I thought I'd come and escort you to mass."
"Thank-you, Declan," she said.
"No problem," Delcan said as he offered his mother her arm, which she accepted.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy drove past the church for the fourth time.
This morning she had felt the sudden urge to just go out for a drive. It was like she was led here. She was now going around the block, circling around the church.
Why was she here? Even if she did want to go to church, it wouldn't start for another half hour. Hadn't she made her decision three years ago?
Lately she had been doubting her decision. Actually, she'd been doubting it ever since she started getting to know Declan. Something about him renewed her hope. It made her think that maybe there *was* a god out there somewhere.
A barrier had built up inside her. She always had this feeling that if she ever went back to church, she wouldn't be able to handle it without Adam. It would bring back too many sad memories. Last night's concert had been a breakthrough for her. She had realized that she could remember him in a good way, not focusing on his death, but the way his life had impacted her. She knew that if he was looking down at her right now, he wouldn't want her to give up church because of him.
She was now on her sixth lap around the block, and this time when she passed the church, she turned decidedly into the parking lot.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Peggy sat in the back of the sanctuary, just looking at it.
It was exactly as she remebered it.
There were blue stained glass windows lining both sides of the church, dotted with stars. Each star has a prism inside of it that would spread little rainbows throughout the sanctuary whenever the sunlight hit it just right. Today was a sunny day, so the windows that were facing east filled the sanctuary with colors.
One of the rainbows landed directly at the foot of the cross in the front. It was a large wooden cross, about twelve feet high, with a purple cloth draped across it for the season of Lent.
It was just so beautiful that all Peggy could do was sit there and stare at it.
"Peggy?" a familiar voice asked. She looked up.
"Pastor Harrison," she said.
"You've come back," he said.
Peggy smiled, "Yeah,"
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Chloe stared at the staff paper that she had proped up on the music stand on her piano. Written on the pages were the notes that made up her best work yet: a piece for a string orchestra.
It was almost finished. She just had to think up the perfect ending. She had been sitting here for almost two hours now, playing possible endings on the piano, sometimes starting to write one in, but then realizing that it wouldn't work. It was a good thing her pencil had a good eraser.
She only needed one or two more measures, maybe three, but they were probably the most important measures in the whole piece. They had to be something origional; they had to capture someone's attention.
Suddenly, and idea dawned on her. Maybe she could have them play the last phrase really loud -- fortissimo -- once, and then they could go down an octave, turn the volume down quite a bit -- mezzo piano, maybe -- and slow down for a quiet, yet grand ending. Maybe she could even put a grand pause right before the ending for an added effect, and a firmata on the last note. She turned the idea over in her head, then fingered the notes on the piano.
That was it! That was the perfect ending! She quickly wrote the notes out on the staff paper, then went over the whole thing in her mind, going over all of the crescendos and decrescendos, all of the solos and the full orchestra parts. This was, no doubt about it, the best work she had ever done. She smiled as she closed her composition book and sat down on her couch.
She loved composing. It was so much fun to come up with origional melodies in her head, and then make up harmonies to go with it until it came out to be a musical piece. She didn't care if they ever got published or if anyone ever heard them. She was happy with experiencing the joy of music. Maybe, without her even knowing it, her music would touch the lives of other people.