The Piano Bench

By the forth grade, I had these braces and crutches pretty well mastered.  No longer did I rip them off the minute I got home from school.  Therefore, my braces were beginning to wear on the back of my leg.  Back then, braces were made of steel covered with leather so I was down to bare steel.  Consequently, I could easily scratch a chair when I sat in them.  I had probably scratched many a church pew.
My forth grade year in school I was mainstreamed into a regular classroom.  A little girl named Marcy reached out to me.  She was an only child and we became wonderful friends.  I would spend many nights at her home playing.  I had a very special bond with her daddy.  A child senses when they are loved and her parents truly loved me and I them.  I remember her parents taking me to concerts, plays and programs at the college right along with Marcy.  Her dad would carry me to and and from the car in the winter or when I got tired.  It was then I noticed he walked with a limp.  He shared with me that he had polio at the age of 10 and after 27 surgeries he could walk with a slight limp.  That was the first time I realized that polio had many faces.  Her daddy had a servant's heart and was always very thankful for what he had and for what God had done for him.
Marcy played the piano.  Her grandmother had paid for her to take lessons from the time she was five.  Her great grandmother had been putting away money from war bonds to buy Marcy and her mom a piano someday.  Marcy's family had just moved into a beautiful house in town.  It was the most beautiful house I think I had ever seen and even when I drive by it today, I still can see two little girls playing make believe inside with Marcy's little dog.
Little by little her parents were furnishing the house and Marcy's mom began to look for a used piano but she was reminded by her grandmother that there was money for a brand new piano. "Just go pick out whatever you want". So she picked out the most beautiful brown wood, high gloss piano she could find. A few days later I came for a visit and Marcy and I couldn't wait to sit at the piano. 
Two years ago Marcy shared the "rest of the story" with me at our high school reunion.  This is what she told me in her words:  "After you went home Cyndi, mom came into the living room and saw scratches on the piano bench from your braces and she began to cry.  My dad told her not to cry, that Cyndi didn't mean to do it.  She said "Of course not but I don't know how to repair it and grandmother hasn't even seen it yet."
My daddy said "We are NOT going to fix the bench (as he loving touched the marks on the bench). Every time we look at it we will think of the joy and love that Cyndi brings.  It will always remind us of her and it will always remind me of how fortunate I have been.  I simply wish I could share my good fortune with her."
To this day the piano is proudly displayed in my parents living room.  When mom plays she often looks down at the bench and smiles. I have often seen dad sit on the bench feeling the marks as he is talking."
I thanked Marcy for telling me that story with tears in my eyes.  I try everyday to ask the Lord to help me be a blessing to others.  Why?  Because I have been so blessed to have so many people who have loved me along the way.