Stories From My Garden: DS's 15th Piano Recital

Saturday, October 22, 2011

DS's 15th Piano Recital

A week after his sister's recital, this afternoon is Migs's time to shine. This is truly a memorable day for all of us because the piece he played is a very difficult one, and is normally played by adult music majors. Our son says it makes it more epic because he gets to play the piece before he bids goodbye to tweenhood.

He performed a piece by Russian composer, Alexander Scriabin (1872-1915), called "Etude in C# Minor, Op. 42 No. 5".

Here is the video as performed onstage by our soon-to-be teen...

In several days, Migs will turn 13 years old. We are excited as he enters a new phase in his life called adolescence. Praise and thank God for this blessing.

I always thank God for you
because of his grace given you
in Christ Jesus.
1 Corinthians 1:4

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God's Bouquet

You must bloom where you are planted,
In the garden we call life,
And bring some special beauty,
To each corner where there's strife.
Perhaps you're but a dandelion,
Wishing you were a rose,
Yet in this place of growingthings,
You're the one God chose.
It's up to you to finish,
What the good Lord has begun,
By growing just the way youshould,
And face each day's new rising sun.
There's room for you if you choose,
To be in a glorious array,
Of beauty from God's garden,
That He'll add to His bouquet.

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:--
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth (1815)