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My Piano

by maria antonia rahartati bambang haryo  
6/17/2011 / Family

To some of us, a piano is just a piano. But to me, a piano meant bigger than the world; it was my mother's love and sacrifice. Okay. You might say, what's so special about a mother's love and sacrifice? Mothers would and should sacrifice, no matter what, for their children. But, for the sake of our self-esteem, my mother has sacrificed her own pride.

I was born when my country was occupied by the Japanese. Life became more difficult when my father was forced to resign as principal in a Catholic school for boys. Consequently he spent most of his time composing religious and Javanese children songs at home.

Unfortunately, to respect the Javanese tradition and culture, my mother, who was also a former principal in a Catholic School for Girls, has handed over her job after she married my father. To make both ends meet, she had to sell her jewelry to feed the family. One by one, her necklaces and bracelets were gone.

Although our stomach was frequently empty - we often failed to eat properly - our hearts were full of beautiful religious songs composed by my father, sung by members of the church choir that came to rehearse at home twice a week. My father was the conductor.

The difficult era lasted almost 8 years. On March 1950, my father informed us that a Dutch publishing house would issue his Javanese children songs in two volumes. I heard my mother murmur to herself, "All good things come to those who wait ...."

It was not all. The government entrusted my father with a post as head of the music department in the ministry of education and culture.

Another big surprise was waiting for me. One day, when I came back from school with my big brother, I saw my parents were waiting at the veranda of our rented house.

"What's up, Father?"

Instead of giving an answer, he asked me to sit on his lap.

"What's up, Mother?"

My mother hurriedly covered her mouth with both hands when I shook her arms to get the answer. My big brother, a shy boy, just stood obediently next to me.

"Here it comes ...," I heard my father said. "Listen. Can you hear the oxcart approaching? Listen to the tinkling sound ..."

Burning with curiosity, my brother and I hastily jumped off from the veranda, and then dashed to the direction of the coming oxcart. Without asking the coachman's permission, we climbed onto the cart and found ... can you imagine? A brown colored piano! We both leapt for joy ...

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That night, when my sisters busied themselves with our 'new' second-hand piano, I sat in the dining room with my parents, doing my home work.

"I'm happy for them ..." my mother said. "Tomorrow they will start the piano lessons at Juffrouw Saffrie's."

"What about you?" my father asked, "What about your necklace and bracelets?"

Hearing my father's question, my mother swiftly glanced at me through the corners of her eyes. I knew it, but I pretended to continue writing.

"The children need that piano more than I need my jewelry ..."

"But ..."

"No buts Their self esteem is my pride. I am no longer a principal. After all these years, the children need books, clothes, and healthy food. And ... a piano."

From the corner of my eyes I saw my father got up from his chair and gently run his right hand through my mother's hair.

I was speechless.

From then on, our house became merrier with music. Piano tunes were heard most of the time, at first carelessly, but months later, we were able to enjoy a family concert, with my parents as the sole audience ... We played in turn, waiting eagerly for their applause at the end of every piece. I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen ... Beautiful Dreamer ... The Rose of Tralee ... The gleam of their eyes could not hide their affection and pride.

Until now, I always feel that a part of my mother was present in every house of her offspring, every time we play the piano.

So, do you want to hear my son or my grandchildren or me playing? Even though we are not professional pianists, I'm sure you will enjoy happy moments in our small and modest musical house ... Plaisirs d'Amour ... Les Quatres Saisons de l'Annee Londonderry Air ...

- translator - from French and English into Indonesian since 1979; 96 books have been published.
- writer - 12 children books and 2 novellettes in Indonesian have been published.
- member of fanstory.com; I have posted 77 writings (short stories and poetry)

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