Our Nana had a magical player piano.
She lived about two miles away in town.
My sister and I set off to visit Nana.
I was four and my sister was two.
Precocious for my age, I confidently walked
into town and across main streets.
After looking both ways before crossing,
I picked up my diaper-clad sister and carried her
across intersections. Mind you, this
was a small town with minimal traffic.
We were used to playing outdoors
for long periods. Nana was surprised
to see us. Where is your mother? At home.
Nana phoned our mother coyly asking if she knew
where her daughters were. Of course.
Outdoors playing. No. They’re here
with me playing the piano and singing. Can
you hear them? Our mother gasped and
said she’d come get us. She had to walk too.
No extra car in those days. But
I reassured her I had looked both
ways before crossing streets. Our Guardian Angels
had worked overtime to keep us safe. The
pull of music was strong even at an early age.