Reese and Quincy played beautifully in their piano recital last week! The venue was the the Mildred Cooper Chapel, a tiny church nestled on a bluff above a lake in the thick Ozark forests. This little church is only about 2 miles down the road from our old home, and we used to take walks on the trail around it when the kids were very little.
Of course, a tiny chapel made out of glass is not the ideal place to take three toddlers. We took turns with the Clive’s watching each other’s little ones, so both parents could sit inside for our kids’ performances.
After Reese played, there were only a few songs left, so Aaron slipped out to stay with the babies, and I stayed inside seated toward the back with my older children. And then....trouble.
Oh you guys. We are totally that family. The ones everyone else with a noisy little person is so grateful is there, because they can always think “at least we aren’t as loud as those Willardsons!” Ha! As Corbin’s buddy played a truly inspiring I Believe in Christ. Corbin whisper-shouted “uh. Ohhhhh....Mom! LOOK!” And he pointed to the side.
There were the twins, SCALING THE SIDE BUILDING with their little feet stepping sideways along the rock ledge outside and their faces and bodies pressed up against the glass walls. I could see them giggling naughtily as they side stepped closer and closer to the front of the chapel. Where was Aaron?! Oh, you bet I could see him too, because you know, the sides of building were made entirely of GLASS. He was chatting away with another parent, back turned to the children, completely unaware of their antics. I wanted to excuse myself, but I was seated next to Ben R, who was filming his son’s lovely performance. So I would have had to climb over the back of the pew, or crawl out below his camera. Instead I stayed in my seat and waved back at the children, motioning frantically to go back to Daddy as I watched their little mouths open and shout, “Mom-myyyyyyyyyyyy! Hi Mommy! Mommy wookit me!” and just prayed the song would end before they made it to the front of the church to where Liz was seated, or worse, disturbed the adorable young musician. You guys. It was like watching a silent movie. A silent horror movie. The piano music trolling along and then there’s me, biting my nails as I watched them walk along the wall approaching the front. And, to my horror, with every row of audience they passed, the people in the pew turned around, away from the performance and pointed toward the window, giggling. And the giggling was infectious. So row after row was finding the twins totally hilarious, and the laughter, like a wave, was swelling its way toward the front.
Then, Mardee pointed over Aaron’s shoulder and he realized what was happening. Of course, there were bushes blocking the way to the wall they were climbing on, but the twins were small enough to wiggle through. So he squeezed his dad bod through the landscaping (you know, the landscaping that’s there to keep exactly this from happening?) and crawled on all fours on the rock ledge toward them. Oh heck. Even I in my embarrassment lost it at that point, too. He called out to them, and they actually listened and worked their way back to the back of the church. The music ended, Neal took a bow, and I pray that Ben had his phone setting zoomed in on his son’s incredible talent and not the brother-sister comedy duo happening in the sidelines. Sorry, Neal! Please perform your beautiful piece in sacrament meeting
Reese and Quincy were inspired by the performances and are motivated to continue lessons. I promised to get a sitter next recital and they made me promise to write a book someday with funny stories from their childhood. Done. Chapter 17: the glass church and the piano recital.
Great Work, my beautiful daughters!
