(I had this post ready on Wednesday, but due to techniculties, it didn't post until Thursday.)
Karen seemed unstoppable. But then one day in her Senior year at Cottonwood in her orchestra class at school she was carrying her violin and tripped and lost her grip on the instrument. It fell to the floor and was shattered into a million pieces. She didn’t know what to do at first. She didn’t want to tell Mom and Dad because she thought that they would be just as shattered thinking that Karen’s musical career was over. Then she decided to barrow a slightly different instrument, a viola, from a neighbor. She taught herself to play it and even paid for viola lessons herself. When the time came to tryout for the school’s annual concerto night, Karen did so, and made it! She gave a fine performance of the Telemann Viola Concerto along with the full orchestra. That was all supposed to be a surprise to my parents, who were to come to concerto night expecting Karen to play Beethoven’s Violin Concerto or something like that. But Karen eventually told my Dad about the broken violin and her switching to the viola. However, she just couldn’t bring herself to tell my Mom. Mom noticed that Karen wasn’t taking her violin to school anymore, but was taking a slightly larger case with her each day. Mom asked about this. “Are you not playing the violin anymore?” Karen thought briefly and then said, “Mom, I think I’ve dropped the violin.”
Coming tomorrow: A Cold Night On Coon Peak
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