Hands of Love
My sweet granddaughter, I treasure your tiny fingers that wanted to touch the ivory keys of our old piano. You seemed to love the sounds that came from your gentle touch. As I watched your little hands, I thought of the other hands that played these same keys…
Sweet girl, did you know your mother learned to play this piano—and her fingers graced these keys too? Your uncle played for years as well. Before that, I had my turn at lessons, as did your great aunt.
But this piano is more than a keyboard, it is part of who we all are. This piano is our history. Let me tell you about your Great-great-great Grandmother Alice.
 |
| Alice at sixteen |
As a young girl in Devonshire, England, she learned to play the piano. She came to America as a teen. After her marriage, she taught her two young daughters to play piano. But when she was 29, her husband left her, with five young children. She sold many of her home furnishings, including her piano—and bought single beds. To keep her family fed and pay her bills, she turned her home into a boarding house. Alice was kind, gentle, and willing to work exceedingly hard for those she loved.
One of her boarders fell in love and married Alice. It was Frank, your great-great-great grandfather. Frank’s years of overtime work at the sawmill gave Alice the most beloved gift in her life—this parlor grand piano.
Frank and Alice raised her five children along with their son, Donald, your great-great grandfather. When Alice passed away, Frank never married again, for the love of his life was gone.
But he wanted her music to live on through her family—and that’s why Alice’s piano is here for your little fingers and for all the hands of love that have played it before you. And prayerfully, for all the hands of love to come.
 |
| Fifth Generation Pianists |
