Theres a young man, a kid actually. Hes playing his horn now with a sense of urgency most folks rarely witness from a guy his age. Hes launching broken phrases, eighth notes mostly, like fresh-washed laundry out to dry. He seems oblivious to the inherent liability present during events like this, the potential unintended exposure of the most private moments while engaging in an act of apparent necessity. After about five minutes of bending every 4th, 5th and 6th to his satisfaction, he hears a knock on the front screen door frame. Some kind-looking folks have apparently magically appeared on his porch. Maybe they were lost. He hadnt seen these folks before. Or if he had somewhere else on the block, they werent dressed up for an Easter Sermon, in October. Nice folks. Downright pleasant, actually. They said Hello and introduced themselves right away. Apparently they are part of an organization, trying to improve the neighborhood one home at a time. A noble cause. An older man seems to be the leader of this bunch. He speaks up, confident but gently, to inquire about the young mans relationship with God. After a moment, maybe two, the young man asks them if they had not heard his music before they had arrived. He was assured emphatically they had, that his performance was amazing, inspiring, the very reason they chose his house to visit today. He smiled shyly before shaking the hands of every kind-looking person on his front porch, and then said ... then youve already heard my answer. Thank you for coming by. Safe travels! He then went back to his playing, using softer tones this time. - 30 -
Posted on: Sat, 16 Nov 2013 20:38:50 +0000
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