Moving Pianos

If you have moved many pianos you will know what I am talking about.  If not, you may think I'm crazy.

The grand piano in our church is down for repairs.  It has taken a pounding for years and needed a good deal of TLC.  It is going to be out for awhile because several parts had to be ordered.  It will be as good-as-new (we hope) when repaired.

In the meantime, we needed a stand-in piano.  Tonight, after choir rehearsal, we moved one of the studio pianos from the choir rehearsal room downstairs to the sanctuary.  Our trusty director asked for 6 or 7 volunteers.  Too many!!

It is easier for two men to move a studio piano than it is for six.  It is designed to be moved by two.  there is a handle at the end on the back for one hand and you can grip under the keyboard with the other.  One person on each end.  Besides, we rolled it the entire way except for the steps up to the stage.  With people on the sides (like a casket) you have problems with corners, with doors, with needing a wide passage, with coordination.....with one on each end, you just roll it to the steps, lift and carry.

Of course there was a short elevator ride in the middle to get from the basement level to the sanctuary level.  How many can you cram into an elevator along with a piano?  Too many.  Oh well, we got it moved.

I'm sure there is a life lesson in there somewhere.  Committees come to mind.  Too many chiefs and not enough Indians also comes to mind.  You need the right number of people to do a job -- not more than enough and not less than enough.

It doesn't look quite as nice as the grand piano, but, I'm sure it will do the job.....

Chris

The Piano

There is an old piano
That sits in our house.
It was made around 1903.
It is showing its age
With scratches and scars
And the chips in some of the keys.

It is silent most days
Which brings sadness to me
For none of us here can play.
It was bought for my daughter
Who's married, in school,
And living a few towns away.

I remember when she
Was just learning to play
How she struggled with every note.
And then as she grew
How her hands fairly flew
Making the music to float

Throughout the house.
And I'd listen and listen
And listen some more
Until she grew tired of playing
And had to rest for awhile.
It filled something deep in my core.

Was it pride that caused me
To beg her for more or was
It filling some deeper need?
Was it that I was wishing
That it was me playing
Such beautiful music indeed?

Or was it the music itself
That I craved that drew
Me to beg her to play?
Was it a vicarious
Need that was being filled?
I just can't really say.

Perhaps it was all
Of these things and more
That gave me such a lift.
There is one thing certain;
It must have been God
That granted this beautiful gift.