Sunday

I made it on up and out the door headed to the Inspiring Body of Christ Church. Today was the day the sixth graders would graduate from the IBOC Christian Academy.  The academy goes from diapers to the sixth grade. There were 13 graduates to receive their diplomas. 


I wound up sitting by a man, I call Duck. Now, Duck is part of his name, yet I can't remember where. Anyway, as these sixth graders spoke of leadership and those that inspired them, I whispered to Duck I don't even remember my sixth grade year being anything like this. What these kids talked about, I didn't even really speak of until I was, uh---well....like on my third job or so. :) 


Duck then informed me, when he was in sixth grade, the school district sent him to different towns. Why? Because he was a classically trained violinist and performed! My mouth dropped. Duck kept saying, 'It's true. True. True."  OK, Duck is the kind of guy who likes to tease, be mischievous, talks to everyone and I guess I didn't picture this guy with a violin--he wouldn't be able to fit it over the muscles in his arm. Anyway, I tell Duck when I was in sixth grade, playing the violin was not even in my school's repertoire. I don't recall anyone playing a string instrument--ever. Not until I was a teacher's aide here in Dallas, did I see kids play violin. In fact, on my birthday, a little girl, maybe fourth or fifth grade, played "Happy Birthday" to me.  Yea. OK, so I thought an ear drum of mine might bust, yet it was the thought. 


After I told Duck that, he produced a black and white picture of a little boy with a violin. The little boy looked like him. I did stare at the picture and back and Duck.  I asked if he still played. The dark cloud over Duck's face was telling. He said he could, but he doesn't. I felt best not to pry and let it alone.


Once again, I found nobody really knows your story.