by Alan Littlewood, Keighley Shared Church

ONE of my earliest memories was of a set of gramophone records which told the story of Sparky, a child, who like me, had to practise playing the piano every day.

What a tedious drudge that was.

The small fingers would rarely hit the right note – Eric Morecambe comes to mind.

But one day, amidst his frustration, Sparky's piano magically came to the rescue, and played most beautifully all his teacher asked of him.

Parents in another room were amazed to hear the perfect renderings of Lizst or Schubert, and it was not long before the piano was performing in concert halls across the world. And all Sparky had to do was surrender his fingers and the piano did the rest.

Sparky loved the joyful elation of feeling his small hands sliding across the keys. And he loved the adoration of the audience at the end of the Revolutionary Etude of Chopin.

But then, at a particularly important public concert, the piano refused to perform. Only the ‘pom-pom’ of Sparky's little fat hands sounded from the keys. The audience booed and Sparky went red with shame. But the piano only stopped helping Sparky when the lad let the audience think it was his greatness they heard.

Whilst writing this I was reminded that if I surrender myself to my Father God and then get out of the way, he will make music and poetry in languages I know not and provide a way where there is no way. May your Pentecost be more real than ever.