TIME FOR A PEP TALK

by Shauna Brown 

     Ever since I can remember music has played an important part of my life. The love of music has been passed down throughout generations in my family lines. There is an everlasting pulsation of music in my veins. 

     My uncle Glen, who I never knew, was said to be able to play every instrument. In fact, he was so good he was asked to join John Phillip Souza and his famous band. My Grandfather George Van Wagenen played the violin and taught his daughters to play.  Great Grandfather Johnson was skilled in playing the dulcimer.  My sister Miriam is a concert pianist. All of my brothers were taught to play the trumpet by their father. Aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins, everyone sharing in the joy of music. Growing up I heard stories of my father and his brothers playing in dance bands and marching in the parades. Yet, some of my most favorite music memories took place in our small living room. I can see my father standing by the upright piano, playing his trumpet while mother accompanied him. Melodies were a main stay in our home.  I loved sitting by the side of my mother while she played the piano and we sang together.  

    There was a moment in my musical background that I must share. As I believe it holds a profound story of worth.

     One Sunday I was sitting beside my father during church. It was a rare moment, as my father was usually was sitting on the stand in a leadership capacity. Having him sit with his family on the bench was a treat. I was nine or ten years of age at the time. 

      Mother and daddy both had lovely singing voices.  Mother was a soprano.  I thought I would try complimenting their voices by testing my skill at singing the alto part of the hymn.  I was blending pretty well I thought, that was until my father leaned over and whispered, “You’re singing flat.”  Embarrassed, I recoiled, and stopped singing. My tender self image withered with his subtle, simple, comment. 

     Now remember, I came from a family filled with musical talent and my first venture into my personal unknown  (alto ) was crushing. Talk about having fragile feelings.  So accompanying a very stubborn streak I vowed not to sing around my father ever again. 

     Gratefully, various opportunities were extended to me and I continued singing.  Eventually I  was ‘discovered’ by a choir teacher, Gordon Quigley, at Irving Jr. High.  I was selected to sing with the Elite Eight and from that moment on I loved the stage.  Girls Glee, Accapella, Mixed Choirs, Seminary Ensemble, quartets, duets, plays and productions filled my life.  

      In college I was blessed to sing with the Sounds of Freedom and the BYU Young Ambassadors. I loved, loved singing. 

      It was during that period of my life when I had my own ah ha moment. 

      I was preparing to travel to the Orient to perform for our soldiers as part of the USO. ( No, Bob Hope wasn’t with us ) Prior to leaving, my group of twelve singers were asked to give a farewell performance.  I invited my parents to attend.  Joining my parents in the audience after, my father looked most pleased and quite surprised. He made a most revealing comment,  “Shauna, I didn’t know you sang solos.”  He was thrilled and was filled with complements, he was clearly happy.  That’s when I felt the instant feeling of ‘regret’ crack my heart.  I realized then, that I had been the one who had held back the moments when we, together, could have enjoyed many more musical ovations of life. 

         Today I watch as my own children and grandchildren venture out into their own world of possibilities. Some of them dance around the stage floor, while others prance across the soccer field. Violin has found a home and heart to one, while art is enjoyed by another. Writing and creative works of wonder are discovering fertile places to grow, as artistic talents are joining the parade of possibilities.  Hopefully, I am learning to be supportive and positive around so many delicate seedlings, realizing, we are all in different stages of development. Some of us have fragile roots, while others have tender tendrils reaching upward. We need to be careful as to what we say. We truly need to watch what words come forth from our lips. I’m sure my father had no idea that his few words had impacted me in such a way.   I’m just grateful that God didn’t allow me to let my love of music wither or fade. 

       “A word once uttered can never be recalled.”

                       ~ Charles Horace Mayo

      So have your pom poms ready. Practice the cheers and compliments that build. Be genuine and look for the good. Love one another and be builders. Take time for pep talks, as we all need them. 

    There are enough people in the world that stand ready with hammers and scar-castic tongues to destroy dreams.

    We must be ready and eager to give daily standing ovations and generous pats on the back. 

Have a fabulous sabbath!

Love always

Shauna