The Strolling Piano

We were in the agriculture building

Looking at the fruits and vegetables

When I heard someone hit a few chords on the piano, 

Which I thought was odd because I’d never heard music in that building before. 

So I turned to where the sound was coming from and

Saw a woman sitting at a piano near the entrance of the building. 

“Weird,” I said to myself, 

As I continued looking at peppers,

And talking with my friends.

 

A few moments later, 

It got weirder.

The woman playing piano was rolling toward us!

Lights flashing, speakers blasting, 

She was on a Strolling Piano that moved kind of like a Roomba vacuum cleaner. 

She would stop. 

She would spin. 

She would move forward. 

She would turn at an angle. 

The movements were sporadic,

Not at all with the music she was performing,

And we were all dumbfounded to be seeing

This full-sized-piano-Roomba-vacuum-cleaner

Amongst the fruits and vegetables.

 

After a few minutes,

The side door to the building opened,

The Strolling Piano went through the door,

The door closed,

And she was gone.

 

After her disappearance,

Which happened just as suddenly as her appearance,

We looked at each other, laughing in disbelief, and said,
“Did that really just happen?

I feel like I’m on a sit-com or something that isn’t real!”

 

But it was real.

Outside the building,

On the walkway,

She continued performing.

“Good evening, North Carolina State Fair!

I’m Maria with the Strolling Piano and

I’m so glad to be with you tonight.”

 

We kept staring in astonishment

Until we finally located the man with the remote control.

Even then, the Strolling Piano filled us with so many questions and

Became the highlight of our 2024 NC State Fair Visit…

 

Which, by the way,

We were so confused by the whole experience that

No one thought to take a picture! :-p

 

What has astonished, confused, or amazed you lately?

I’d love to hear.

 

"Cat"

 

My dad is convinced that he speaks, “cat.”

He says that he understands what the cats want

And that the cats tell him what they need.

In all actuality, the cats simply want food and

Know that he’ll give it to them.

As a result, he hasn’t trained them,

Rather they have trained him,

And they keep him up at all hours of the night,

Demanding to go in or go out,

Begging for dry food or turkey.

 

I tell him to ignore their demands,

But he swears that they will just swat at him and get mad.

He said that Annie Mae got mad on Sunday morning,

Hit the chair,

And then stomped off for hour.

She may have,

But she was better by Sunday afternoon,

When she told me

(Yes, I speak, “cat,” too)

That she wanted to take a nap.

I obliged,

And she did what she always does

When she’s being affectionate:

Hopped onto her spot,

Made biscuits,

Turned around,

And laid down right next to my leg.

 

Annie Mae is not an overly affectionate cat.

But when she wants pets,

She lets us know.

And when she wants to nap,

She curls up beside me,

Always touching some part of my body,

But never laying on me outright,

Because that would be too much love.

 

In so many ways, people are like cats.

We tend to be the center of our own universe.

We communicate what we want both passively and aggressively and

We hope that someone listens.

We’re opinionated and prickly at times,

But even then,

We want someone with whom

We can be ourselves,

Rest, and

And feel safe, warm, and secure.

 

I hope that each of us can know and experience

Even a fraction of the love and

Life of comfort that

Annie Mae has come to live.

From thrown away teenage mother to

Queen of the House,

She is teaching me about

Adoption, redemption, and love…

All in her language of “cat.”

Whisper

 

“I’m whispering something to you,” she wrote. 

And then she confessed. 

She’d been struggling with a very annoying friend. 

She hadn’t wanted to say anything negative about the friend. 

But she was really struggling. 

And she’d been struggling alone. 

But finally she said what was on her mind and in her heart. 

And it set her free. 

 

In the weeks after she whispered her secret, 

Her attitude changed. 

She started to engage the friend in conversation more, 

And she didn’t get as annoyed with the friend’s behaviors.

The friend hadn’t changed. 

But she had. 

And it’s all because

She allowed light

To penetrate the darkness

Of what she’d been trying to hide. 

 

She was right.

It’s good not to talk negatively about other people.

It’s good to live by the mantra
“If you can’t say anything good, then don’t say anything at all.”

But sometimes, words just need to be whispered.

Whether over coffee, or via text, or even in a therapist’s chair,

Some words need to be said,

Not to put others down,

Or gossip,

Or slander,

Or lie,

But to lift the heavy burden they’ve become in our souls.

Some thoughts, feelings, and actions need to be confessed,

Not for judgment and condemnation,

But for light and grace and peace and love.

 

That’s what happened with her.

And it changed her.

Maybe it will change you, too.

 

Oh God: May we each of us find spaces where we can safely speak our truths and may each of us be that space for others when the burdens become too much. Amen.

 

School Gift--Bats

I’m not exactly sure where they came from,

But Barb the Great gave me in a tin full of purple bats.  

I can’t imagine the original intent of said purple bats,

But I decided they’d be perfect for a little school-gift,

Especially around this time of year.

 

Yesterday morning, I set out to write the bat’s message.

But, boy did I struggle!

 

Educators don’t really want to read anything placed in their boxes.

Reading takes time.

And time is a hot commodity.

So, school-gifts must be short, lest they immediately go in the trash.

School-gifts must also be straightforward, uplifting, and/or challenging

Because teachers often don’t have the brain space to think of anything

Other than what they’re teaching.

 

And so…

I started writing.

It went dark quickly because bats are traumatic for me.

While it’s important to know about trauma—

Especially in children—

A school-gift isn’t the time to learn.

 

And so…

I edited.

I know that bats are good for the environment and that they’re actually kind of cute.

While it’s important for us to realize that bats are endangered and that they are needed—

Especially to combat mosquitoes—

A school-gift isn’t the time to ponder the merits of bats.

 

And so…

I edited.

I’ve worked on overcoming my fear of bats in therapy.

While it’s important to know the benefits of therapy and of

Doing the hard work of overcoming fear for yourself—

Especially for those in the helping professions—

A school-gift isn’t the time to consider therapy.

 

And so…

I edited.

I’ve let go of some of my bat fear,

But I think part of it will probably always remain.

While it’s important to recognize that fears don’t always go away—

Especially fears that are tied to trauma—

A school-gift isn’t the time to embrace that reality.

 

And so…

I edited.

And finally, I came up with this:

 

A bat flew at my head once. It was inside my house. It scared me. A lot.

Rationally, I know that bats are good. Irrationally, because of that moment, I have a deep fear of bats.

Fear is a powerful thing. It can both motivate and debilitate us. It can both push us to try new things and stop us in our tracks. We all have fears. We all have things both tangible and intangible that scare us.

But do not fret, friends. Fear is not the final word. The opposite of fear is hope, courage, determination, resilience, and strength. The opposite of fear is love. And love is the final word.

Hold to that truth today and in the days to come…especially as you face your fears.

 

May this latest school-gift be also a blessing to you.

And may you truly hold to one reality that is the final word:

Love,

For God IS love.

Even if God created bats.

 

Anger Issues

 

I have a student who is a very good musician. 

He is super sweet when he’s in a good mood,

But he has major anger issues when he’s not. 

He’s been doing well in my class this year,

Sitting at my desk and drawing to keep himself focused and calm,

But last week, he wandered away from my desk and started bothering some classmates.

When I told him to come back over to my desk—

Not because he was in trouble but because he does better at my desk—

He got mad.

He started mumbling.

“Man, I hate school.

I’d rather be doing ANYTHING but school.

I hate school.

I hate everything about it.

I’d give anything to not be here—

I’d go anywhere else.”

And he kept on going.

Then a classmate joined in,

“It’s okay.

This torture will be over soon

And then we can go to lunch.”

“I hate lunch.

Lunch isn’t even fun anymore.”

And they just commiserated with one another

About how horrible everything was.

All the while,

I was listening and trying not to take it personally.

Especially the part about
“This torture will be over soon.”

 

There’s a lot I could say about this situation,

But I think what strikes me most is

The little sting that stung when I heard my class called torture.

I know, these two children have no idea what true torture is.

But in their 4^th grade brains,

Sitting through music class while learning a Preamble Rap

Was torture.

What a dramatically strong word for something so minor as

Being redirected and then not liking a song!

And what a powerfully stupid word to hurt me.

 

But it did.

A little.

Because words are so very powerful--

Even words from children who have no idea what they’re saying.

 

So may we choose our words wisely,

What we say and what we write,

And may we model healthy emotional expression to the children

Who are hurting,

And my goodness are they hurting.  

 

Amen.

Little Pumpkin

 

Each year during fall,

I buy little pumpkins and gourds for my classroom.

They serve not only as decorations but also as

Visual examples for lessons with Kindergarten and 1^st grade.

 

Last week, I unpacked my pumpkins during my exceptional children’s (EC) class.

One of the students immediately became fascinated by the pumpkins

And started playing with them.

He even drew faces on them.

I later found out that he was mimicking a shape activity that they had done

On the smartboard in their classroom!

 

As the class left, I gave one of the pumpkins to the EC teacher.

Two days later, she wanted to use the pumpkin in a teaching activity

But the pumpkin was gone.

When she asked the fascinated student where the pumpkin was,

He said, “Home.”

She said, “L! That pumpkin wasn’t yours!”

He said, “Ms. Deaton. Musica.”

She said, “Ms. Deaton gave it to me!”

 

As the teacher was telling me this story, laughing,

I got choked up.

“He knows my name?” is all I could think and say.

He’s autistic.

He doesn’t talk much.

When he does, it’s usually gibberish Spanish because he’s either happy or mad.

He comes to music with his EC class and with his mainstreamed class,

But he doesn’t usually directly participate in the lesson, and

He’s never said my name.

Not to me.

But he said it to his teacher.

“Ms. Deaton. Musica.”

And it made me cry!

 

I make it a point to say my student’s names every time they come to class.

I try to say their names when I see them in the mornings, in the afternoons, and in the hallways.

I know that names are important.

But I didn’t know that MY name was so important until

I heard that teacher say it as L said it.

“Ms. Deaton. Musica.”

 

I AM

Ms. Deaton,

Musica.

And inasmuch as the title sometimes drives me crazy,

It is a privilege

To be a pumpkin bearer

And a joy sharer

To the least of these,

Our children.

 

Amen.

A Prayer for Western NC

 

Oh God,

Western North Carolina is broken.

The layers of trauma and hurt are as complex and deep

As the mud and waters that lay stagnant

In homes and communities shattered

By the power of Nature’s force.

 

For all who have lost physical possessions and are trying to put the pieces back together,

Lord, have mercy.

 

For all who have lost loved ones to certain death,

Lord, have mercy.

 

For all living in the uncertainty of a loved one’s whereabouts,

Lord, have mercy.

 

For all who are stranded with no power, food, or water,

Lord, have mercy.

 

For linemen, rescue workers, and all who are on the ground to provide disaster relief,

Lord, have mercy.

 

For all who will try to take advantage of those whose lives have already been devastated,

Lord, have mercy.

 

For all who feel helpless but can only offer prayers and financial support,

Lord, have mercy.

 

The aftermath of Helene is going to linger long and hard.

Help us as we recover and rebuild.

Help us to be community in action and

To be the answer to our own prayers.

Help us to go and do,

To be hands and feet and ears and hearts.

Always.

 

Amen.