Seven dollar dream

  Buying: Violin, limited payment capacity, please make a call…
  How did I notice this when I rarely read classified ads? I put the newspaper in my lap and close my eyes, still remembering the days of the Great Depression. At that time, our family lived on the farm. I myself would have loved to own a violin, but the family couldn’t afford it…
  My twin sisters were very interested in music, Harriet Ann learned to play Grandma’s upright piano, Suzanne played Dad’s violin. As they continued to practice, the simple tune quickly turned into a beautiful melody. In the beautiful music, the little brother will dance, the father will hum, and the mother will whistle. And I just listened silently.
  When my arms were long enough, I tried playing Suzanne’s violin. I love the mellow sound of a stiff bow being drawn across the strings. How I wish I had a violin! But I know it’s impossible.
  One evening, while my sisters were playing in the school orchestra, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to hold the scene in my head. I swore to myself that one day, I would be sitting there too.
  It was very hard that year. When it was harvested, the crop yields were lower than expected. I couldn’t help my desire for the violin: “Dad, can I have my own violin?”
  ”Can’t you use Suzanne’s?”
  ”I want to join the orchestra too, and we can’t play the same violin at the same time.”
  Dad looked sad. Since that night, I have heard him mention my wish every night when he prayed to the family: “…God, Mary Lou wants to have a violin of her own.”
  One evening, we sat around the table beside. My two sisters and I were doing homework, my mother was sewing, and my father was writing letters to his friend George Fick in Columbus. He said Mr. Fick was a wonderful violinist.
  Dad read most of the letter to Mom as he wrote it. A few weeks later, I found out that he hadn’t read a passage – “Can you find a violin for my third daughter? I can’t afford that much, she loves music and we want her to have her own musical instrument.”
  A few weeks later, when Dad received a letter from Columbus, he announced, “As soon as we find someone who can take care of the cattle, we’ll drive to Aunt Alice’s in Columbus.” The
  day finally came, and we drove to After Aunt Alice’s house, I heard my father make a phone call. Afterwards he asked me, “Mary Lou, would you like to come with me to visit Mr. Fick?”
  ”Of course,” I replied.
  We drove into a residential area and pulled into the driveway of an elegant old house. We went up the steps and rang the doorbell. A tall gentleman who was older than Dad opened the door, “Come in!” He shook hands with Dad warmly, and the two chatted immediately.
  ”Mary Lou, I heard about you, your father has prepared a big surprise for you!” Mr. Fick took us to the living room, picked up a box, opened it, took out a violin and began to play. The beautiful melody poured down like a waterfall. Oh, I wish I could play as well as he does!

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