I remember being 5 years into this life of mine, one yet unfinished; and my big sister had a little friend. Her little friend brought into our little house a little keyboard. Our little house for our big family that we lived in for a little while, which had never contained within its walls a musical instrument of any kind or any size, until that day. The day that that little friend of my big sister brought in, her board of keys. I was fascinated with it immediately, but me being the youngest, I had to not so patiently wait my turn as each of my siblings toyed with the instrument of my fancy with horrid cacophonies coming from the holed up speaker beneath holes placed there for sound passage. I was a quiet mouse of a lad back then, but I wanted to scream at my lung tops, " For the love of all that is sacred! can you cease hitting those thingies little friend of big sister calls keys?" I was patient in those days of youth, but I have always been annoyed by clangor and repetition. Finally, after all others, I got my chance to have my hand on those plastic keys which beckoned me from the moment I saw them. Finally, I would discover something about myself,  I did not yet know it, because I hadn't yet cracked my fingers nor stretched them as per the instructions of the little friend of my big sister. So I did so. I was ready. I was excited. I had no idea what a chord was! So, I hit one key that simply called my name with vibes. I hit that key. I recognized it! So I tried to mimic the song I recognized it from. It was a song that had just been playing on the radio earlier. I pressed another key which seemed logically the next progression to match sonically the song which had been playing earlier. When I had finished hitting the keys I had seemingly subconsciously selected, I had played the intro and main section of the popular at that time song "Lean On Me" without one mistake. The big father of the little friend of my big sister said, "You have perfect pitch hearing, that is a rare gift!" My family gave me three cheers... and I walked into a corner like I had done something wrong. I felt filled with Joy and empty inside at the same time. I felt guilty because the little friend of my big sister who had the big father, looked down at the floor with tears in her eyes... she said, "Daddy, I have taken lessons for years and have played much more difficult pieces than he did, and you never showed that kind of pride in me." I never touched another instrument until 13 or 14 years into this life of mine, one yet unfinished -and I pray that little friend with a big clueless father gained the attention she deserved more than I.