It Was A Very Happy Household

It was a very happy household. There was Leopold, a fine musician, who was the Vice-master of Bishop’s Chapel in Salzburg, Austria. There was his adoring wife and his young daughter Marianne and then there was his son little Wolfgang, a child not quite four years old. Marianne was learning to play the harpsichord, and day after day the hand-some Leopold stood behind her as she practiced in the drawing-room upstairs.

How very patient and loving her father was – and how cleverly he showed Marianne how to play some particularly difficult piece. She was making progress very good progress, and that was excellent, to be sure. And there, almost lost in the big armchair, sat Wolfgang, little Wolfgang who had never to be told to keep quiet when Marianne was practicing. One evening, at sundown, Leopold patted Marianne’s shoulder, saying she had done remarkably well. At that moment Wolfgang climbed on his father’s knee and begged to be allowed to play the pretty piece Marianne had now mastered. What a joke that was. Picking up his baby son, Leopold laughed, tapped his tiny nose, and said, “Look at your small hands. Why, you cannot span the notes yet. You must wait, little man. You must wait!”

There was no end of fun during tea, and Marianne had to tell her mother about Wolfgang wanting to play one of the classics. When the meal was finished, Marianne helped to clear away the crockery while Leopold lit his pipe. But the pipe went out. Leopold was on his feet. “Listen, mother,” said he in awed tones, “Listen! Marianne is playing that piece better than ever!”

But Marianne was washing pots in the kitchen. His wife following, Leopold crept upstairs, the lamp in one hand, his pipe in the other. He pushed open the drawing-room door, and

there was little Wolfgang playing in the darkness. “I love it so!” The child Whispered to himself. It was the beginning of Mozart’s life of melody.

We Must Never Neglect the Potential That is Hidden in Both Ourselves and Others.

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