We had listened to Aine practice for over six months now, the melody to the piece over and over until I could hear her playing it in my head. Trick or Treat was the name of the melody, and like what it was named after, it was a tricky piece to play. Her teacher, a wonderful Filipina lady who we call Miss Midgie, was kind but firm in getting Aine how to play the piece correctly. Miss Midgie had been teaching piano all her life and it showed in the way she would ask Aine to curve her fingers on the keyboard or walk her through exercises. It was a contrast, a beautiful white-haired grandmotherly lady with a nine-year-old girl, whose legs still could swing under the piano bench.
I would take her to her lessons and watch her work with Aine and also gaze around the room of the apartment, taking in all the family photos and paintings of her and her husband when they just got married. It was a wonderful, loving cocoon to have a butterfly hatch in, I thought.
When Miss Midgie announced that Aine was going to play in the competition, I had some reservations. I remember having to go to competitions for the trumpet and later voice. It was a lot of stress, I recalled. But I also remember that it was the sort of thing that did prepare me for being a musician.
When you perform there are no second chances. You are in the moment. And that is where sports and music intertwine. Performance is the one place where you have to master your own inhibitions and fear. That’s why I hate figure skating so much. It is so much like a solo performance. And that’s why I also feel that if a figure skating duo screws up, they have the right to kamikaze the judge’s bench and get some sort of score on glorious destruction.
So, as much as I wanted to spare Aine that experience, I realized in the long run it would only benefit her. She can figure the kamikaze part out later.
The competition was held at Wheaton College, right next to the Billy Graham chapel. We drove from Rogers Park, Aine’s performance outfit on a hanger, white patent leather shoes, white tights and a spring floral dress.
And of course, we gave Aine a few more lessons on the way to the competition. More than halfway there, Annie slapped her forehead and said “My God, we forgot her music!” The competition made clear that they needed the judge to have a score to look at while the contestant played.
“Am I not going to be able to play?” Aine asked in a trembling voice. “Don’t worry, you will” I reassured her as I said a few Hail Mary’s to myself. Annie proceeded to alert Miss Midgie and went through an array of phone calls to see if neighbors could get into the house and find the music.
We pulled into the Wheaton College campus and proceeded to drive in every direction except to where the event was. Finally, I spied a bunch of cars and a little sign that indicated this was the place for the competition. We saw a big SUV pulling out of a parking spot and I waited as patiently as I could while the person in the SUV did the world’s slowest three-point turn. Finally, the person adjusted his visor, checked his air conditioning and like a Boeing 747 slowly taxied his way past me and out of the parking lot. I quickly pulled in and we got Aine to change into her clothes for the competition.
I looked at the clock, about 15 minutes were there until she had to begin. We threaded our way across hundreds of parents and kids. All the kids dressed for church it seemed. The ones heading out to the parking lot holding trophies or ribbons. Parents taking pictures in front of the competition sign. We found the office, and like a great calming balm, there was Miss Midgie, already working with the staff to go through boxes of musical scores to find Trick or Treat.
Wonderfully, it was located and Annie gave the competition staff $10 to be held hostage until we returned the score. Now that we gave Aine all the extra stress she would ever need, we headed into the room, Miss Midgie leading the way.
There were about ten kids there to play. And it was wonderful to see the diversity of all these little kids, and to observe the parents, sitting there in our designated section of the room.
And one of those moments happened. I had to let Aine go. She was on her own from this point on and it would be up to her to do whatever she needed to do. The room got quiet as the competition began. The kids were placed in order of performance, the judge sitting quietly, two helpers to assist with shuffling papers, scores, taking some notes and stamping the results of the judge’s decisions.
The first girl sat down to play “Little Green Jumping Frog.” She was dressed in green as well, and I thought of how her folks were here to kill. The first notes of the piece started when in walked another judge and asked for a pause. The tension was palpable as she huddled with the judge at the bench. Apparently, there was a competition on another floor that required that judge’s presence. She left; the new judge sat down. Later, Miss Midgie told me the new judge was the founder of the competition. And that proved inspiring to me personally a bit later.
She apologized for the disruption, that last sliver of chaos delivered and asked Green Frog girl to commence. The girl played her piece perfectly, totally unperturbed, bowed and sat down.
And so until Aine, the different kids got up and played. My favorite was this Indian American boy who was dressed in shorts, short sleeves, had a Beatles mop of hair and sauntered over to the bench when called. He did a quick warmup and without waiting for the judge to instruct him to begin, he launched into a wonderful interpretation of what was on the score. He finished, flipped his hair and sauntered back to his chair and swung his legs under it. I thought to myself that this kid will be the future rock star.
It was Aine’s turn. She got up bowed as instructed by Miss Midgie and sat down at the piano. She did her warmup and turned to the judge. The judge looked at the piece. “Trick or Treat in June,” she said with a smile. “You may begin when ready.”
Aine tore through the piece a bit too fast and then hit the last note of melody twice, looking at the judge with a look of a startled deer for that faux pas. She got up, bowed again and I saw that look. A look of being in the moment and not nailing it. All of the bad “Danny Boy’s” and missed notes and voice cracking came screaming at me with that one look. She sat with her back to us, and the competition continued.
The time for the results came in. But first, the judge had some kind words and words of wisdom. “Before you begin a song, hum it at the piano before you start,” she said. I knew she was addressing Aine directly. She could have been telling me the same with all the botched songs I have ever done for jumping out of the gate too quickly. She told the kids they all did wonderfully and that they were the best of the best, having been selected to compete in the first place.
And the results were then read. And Aine came in third place, receiving a trophy. I realized that Miss Midgie had selected a rather good piece for Aine. She knew that the piece was more challenging for her age and gave her the chance to see if she could do it. And in truth, the piece was more like jumping five cars on a motorbike while the other kids jumped one at best. But Aine had a bad dismount because she gunned the bike too hard on the ramp. The Green Frog girl won first place, which she truly did deserve.
We all got up relieved it was over.
Aine turned to Annie and Miss Midgie and began to cry. She knew she could have done better and perhaps if we did our part, remembered the music, got to the place a bit earlier, she would have felt more composed. The judge asked her, “why are you crying? You played wonderfully.”
It took Aine about five minutes to regain composure.
And I was proud that she was angry with herself for messing up. And I was proud that she didn’t buy that she played wonderfully. And I was proud that in spite of it all, her practicing and dedication she placed third. She wasn’t perfect and she knew it.
Later in the car ride home she said, “I will do better next year.” And I smiled. There it was, the most important element in this craft. Not perfection. Perseverance.
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