The Bishop's Wife

Today winter announced itself as it roared into our neighborhood. It began with rain, turned into wet, heavy snow, and then large, blowing flakes. As I write this blog in my snug, four-season sun room, the wind is howling and blowing around me. I have just finished watching one of my favorite holiday movies, The Bishop's Wife. I love this movie not just because Cary Grant "plays" a harp in it, but for the beautiful message this film carries.

The story unfolds as an angel (Cary Grant) is sent in answer to the Bishop's prayer for help in funding a new cathedral. This task is so overwhelming that he is neglecting his wife and daughter. Naturally, the angel helps in ways unanticipated and unappreciated by the forlorn Bishop. What unfolds is a delight tale of love, chivalry and holiday cheer.

From the moment Cary Grant strolls onscreen he has everyone's attention. He makes the angel, Dudley, just a little bit roguish, a little bit dark. You couldn't really take Grant seriously if he were all decked out in an angel's costume, halo and harp and all, but you can imagine him as a sort of very human angel. Which is exactly what Dudley is.

The lessons in this sweet little romantic dramedy are obvious and much of what transpires can be anticipated. Yet I believe that there are times we could use a reminder of how precious our relationships are - and that we can't ever take them for granted. There are few films that remind us of this with such heartwarming charm. Don't miss the chance to see The Bishop's Wife this holiday season!

Finding the Gift in a Challenge

This article was published in the 2009 Fall issue of The Folk Harp Journal:

I know I am not alone when I say that I have experienced world class stage fright. At times it has been so bad that if I were playing my harp alone in a room with a mirror, and I saw my reflection, I'd make myself nervous.

Not being the type of person to give in to such a problem, I devised a way to help alleviate my distress. I decided to volunteer several times during the holiday season to raise funds for the Salvation Army by playing my harp at one of their red kettles. Towards that end, I chose a Salvation Army facility in a wealthy county, hoping that I could play in one of their up-scale malls with its beautiful decorations and wealthy patrons. However, I was told that the malls in that area would accept the Salvation Army volunteers only if they didn't make any noise. I then contacted the Salvation Army in the county where I live close to Detroit. The commandant searched until he found a mall that would welcome me. I was very familiar with it. It was an old mall with many vacant store-fronts and little traffic. Well, perhaps this was best, I thought.

The first time I played in the mall I was given a spot by a newer department store in an area which was nicely decorated. Traffic was sporadic and I began playing when no one was around. My hands were sweating and I stumbled a bit, but I kept playing. People began to walk up and drop change in the kettle. It was difficult to try and play and say "Thank you," or "Merry Christmas," and I would sometimes make mistakes. But guess what? The world did not end! No one told me I was a lousy harpist! Instead I received compliments as people actually stopped to listen.

People would wait for me to finish a piece and begin asking questions. This was a part of town where there were no orchestras, and no one had ever seen a harp. How much did it weigh? How could I play with all that weight on my shoulder? How long had I been playing? How much does a harp cost?

The most amazing experiences I had in the mall where with children. There was one toddler who broke away from her mother and charged me. Mom was terrified as she ran after the child, but the little one came to a stop next to me and stared - HARD. Her mouth open, she watched my hands as if in a trance through the entire piece, and when I finished she looked a me and giggled. I encouraged her to pluck a string, which she did gently and then looked at me and laughed with her whole body.

Another time a middle-aged woman was herding six children, ages approximately 5 through 10, through the mall. she told them to sit around me and listen, because this was a very special instrument that they may never see played again until they get to heaven. They all politely obeyed and listened intently until I played "Silent Night" all the way through. Then the woman in charge had them all thank me, and gave each of them coins to drop in the kettle as they left.

One little girl helped me with my stage fright more than anyone or anything else. I really messed up a song and had to start over. When I finally got through it, this 10 or 12 year old with thick glasses told me, "You play really pretty, when you don't make mistakes." It was so honest that I had to laugh. The angst I had been feeling about messing up disappeared into thin air.

At one point, after I told the Salvation Army commandant that I was getting over my stage fright, I was moved to a part of the mall that had much more traffic. It was in front of an old, run-down department store that had been replaced by a Value City. This was a bargain basement type store, and there were many people shopping there who were poorly dressed. There were just a few worn-out decorations and the lighting was dim. The amazing thing about this spot was that almost everyone dropped something in the kettle. It may only have been a coin, but more often it was a dollar bill. At times people had to wait their turn to drop their contributions in the kettle because there were so may people! I always received a wide smile and a kind word along with the contribution.

It occurred to me that the people who shopped in this mall understood what it felt like to be in need or close to it, and they were happy to contribute whatever they could to help. What a contrast to the up-scale malls that didn't welcome someone who didn't fit in with the ambiance they were creating for their wealthy shoppers. I've often wondered how many of those wealthy shoppers would have walked past my kettle without leaving even a coin, when they never would have missed a $20 dollar bill.

The hours I spent playing in that run down mall were some of the best hours I've ever known. It helped reduce my stage fright to a manageable level and I had the feeling that I was doing some good with my harp. I also received a most remarkable gift. It happened on the day my husband had the time to help me bring my pedal harp to the mall. I was then able to try some more challenging music, including the Bach Prelude which was often used for the Ave Maria. There were many pedal changes which made me nervous, but I wanted to challenge myself more than I already had. I had run through my repertoire a couple of times and was beginning to play the Prelude/Ave Maria a third time. Then, out of the air behind me and above my head, a deep, soft but strong African-American voice gently entered into the song as if to not frighten me. As our music combined he sang more loudly and I completely forgot that I was playing a piece I considered challenging. In that moment in the dimly lit, run-down mall, heaven touched the earth. People gathered around us with their hands held up to their hearts as my angel and my harp sang. I felt apart from it all, as if I were a member of our audience, and there was no fear - only joy.

At the end of the song, the singer came from behind me so that I could finally see him. As I stood to shake his hand, his towering form warmly embraced me as people gathered around the kettle to leave their contributions before coming to thank us. After everyone left, he went to the kettle to leave his contribution and then walked away. I noticed then the 1940's style top coat he was wearing. It was very similar to the type worn by Jimmy Stewart or Cary Grant. How fitting, I thought, that he should bring to mind those wonderful old Christmas movies in which angels played a major role.

At the end of that holiday season, I discovered that my greatest challenge as a harpist gave me one of my greatest gifts. I think about that often when I'm facing new challenges on the harp or in life. I hope that you, too, will look at your challenges in this way - as opportunities to experience things you've never imagined possible.

Discovery

Last week my husband, two Shelties and I took a trip to Mackinac Island. On the way we stopped in Graying to visit Hartwick Pines. The day was beautiful and we enjoyed the walk through the woods. On the way to our motel room for the evening, we passed by a shop in town called Apollo's Lyre and there was a very old harp in the window. I left my husband and dogs in the car and ran in for a moment to see what this shop was about. Inside was a collection of many different types of art, the old harp and two newer cross-strung harps. The small one didn't interest me much, but the medium sized one boggled my mind. The woman in the store couldn't tell me much about the harp, except that it was a Clement. The thing that freaked me out are the dampening "paddles" near the top of the strings. There are also pedals. I've been waiting to hear from the owner of the harp to get more information, but if anyone out there knows how this harp works, please let me know!

The next morning we traveled on to Mackinaw City and the ferry ride to the island. Duncan and Gracie drew many exclamations from our fellow passengers about how beautiful they are, and as always, it was like discovering old friends as we stood and talked about our dogs.

Throughout the entire time on the island we were approached by Duncan and Gracie's fans. We told them about the breed, or they told us about their own Shelties. We heard many times about the family on the island who owned 4 Shelties but we never ran into them until we were at the dock for the return ferry home.

Northern Michigan in the autumn is a beautiful place, even if the leaves have only begun to turn. The air was cool and crisp, and the feel of the breeze off the the lakes was energizing. The tourists were few and far between, making feel like we had been transported back in time on the "no-automobile/horses only" island.

It was a great trip that left me with memories of friendly faces, beautiful scenery and a harp mystery. What more could you want from an autumn vacation?

Music for Healing

The malfunctioning gall bladder is finally out! So for the next few days I'll be taking it easy, and listening to instead of playing, music. The first artist I've been listening to is one that I've found only recently. I heartily recommend Cathie Ryan if you like celtic or folk music.

Cathie's website is at www.cathieryan.com. You can read all about her background there and hear samples of her new album. It turns out that she used to live very close to me, and I never heard of her until only recently from Richard McMullin from Blackthorn.

Here's a sample of her music. I think you'll love it!
Be Like the Sea

ConKerr-ing Hero

After a month of jungle-like heat, the long, hot summer finally graced us with a beautiful cool and breezy morning. For the first time in weeks, I turned off the air conditioning and opened up all the windows.

Today my friend, Susan, was going to come over and we would sew pillowcases for a children's cancer charity called ConKerr Cancer - a Case for Smiles. In preparation I set up my sunroom with a work table, fabric and sewing tools. I then went into my kitchen and made us a lunch of Ham and Cheese Rolls, Broccoli Salad and, of course, Blueberry Tarts.

We worked and chatted in the fresh breeze flowing through the sunroom, ate lunch, and visited the new garden. Susan laughed at Duncan and Gracie's antics in the backyard. By the end of the afternoon, we had completed a dozen pillowcases.

It was such an enriching day for me that I'd like to encourage everyone to get together with friends to do something to help out a charity. Who knows - you could turn out to be someone's hero...

Blueberry Tarts, Camille Tea and a New Garden!

I've been enjoying blueberries lately, so this morning I tried my hand at blueberry tarts made from scratch. By the time they were ready to sample, the ladies from Two Women and a Hoe had begun work on putting together my new garden. I'm still amazed on how fast they work!

Among the plants now residing in my garden are a pink Double Knock Out Rose, Coneflowers, Coral Bells, Shasta Daisies, Montana Rubens Clematis and an Annabell Hydrangea in addition to the veteran Lilac, Bridal Veil and Stella D'Oro.

One of the best things about this garden? It's almost maintenance free! Jan told me that I don't really need to do anything in it until next spring.

After they left the dogs and I went out to visit the garden. Duncan and Gracie loved the new scents they found there.

After taking a few pictures, we went back into the house. I sat in my sunroom, looking out at my new garden, drinking camille tea and eating a blueberry tart, with harp music playing in the background.

Does it get any more mellow than this?

Two Women and a Hoe

My gardening philosophy has always been, "If it can't survive neglect, it doesn't deserve to live." Yet, due to poor health, I've been unable to get out in my garden even to clear out the weeds all spring and summer. The more the garden became overgrown, the more it bothered me. Then last week I saw a truck in our neighborhood that advertised, "Two Women and Hoe." I smiled at the humor of it and drove by. Before I had finished my task and returned home, I had decided to give these women a call to see if they could lend me a hand in my garden.

My call was greeted enthusiastically by Jan. Within a few days she arrived at my house with her partner and they attacked my garden with energy and efficiency. In a very short time they had turned the jungle into good, clean earth and properly pruned bushes.

Jan had discussed with me several things we could plant to make the garden colorful and low maintenance. As I kept wandering back to the garden throughout the day and evening, I imagined the magic we could create in that fertile land. Each time as I walked back to the house, I pulled each weed I passed in the yard and picked up the twigs that had fallen from the tree. I looked around and saw little improvements I wanted to make.

The dogs have also been drawn to the garden. Gracie has always enjoyed the view from the highest level, but she has been avoiding it this year because of the tall weeds. Now she runs out to the garden almost as soon as she is let into the yard. (That is, as long as the grass isn't wet - she's doesn't like to get her paws dirty...)

As my home has been cleaned and organized these past couple of weeks, I've found that my attitude has been improved greatly. I've enjoyed not having things spill out of closets as I open them, and being able to find things without hunting for them. But my garden is the greatest joy of all. The best part is the anticipation of watching the garden being transformed by someone who really knows how to do it, and who is willing to create something that I will be able to take care of properly myself once it is done.

Thanks, Two Women and a Hoe!