Piper is a little wisp of a girl. And she’s fascinated by my guitar.
“Jessie!” she calls when she sees me. “Teh-tar!”
It used to just be “Jessie,” but now I’m completely replaced with one major thing in her mind: a guitar. She’s only two years old, but she knows my guitar when she sees it.
One afternoon I decided to teach her the different parts of the guitar. Why not? I figured. If she’s interested, it wouldn’t hurt. So while her Mama was busy doing some work in the church office, I began.
“This is a pick,” I said, holding up the little plastic plectrum. “Pick.”
“Peck,” she said.
I pointed to a string. “String.”
“String,” she repeated, a tiny parrot.
“Strap,” I said, lifting the brown leather strap to show her.
“St-r-ap.” She tested the word on her tongue.
“Neck.” I pointed.
“Neck,” she said.
“Pickguard,” I said, pointing to the area just below the sound hole, a piece of brown speckled plastic that protects the finished wood as you strum.
“Pick. . .guard,” she copied.
I pointed to the fretboard. “Fretboard.”
“Fret–” she stopped, her brow crinkling–as if to say, “Aunt Jessie, this is a little too much for me.”
Then we sang and played some songs together. I let her strum with the “peck” while I chorded. We made a pretty good little duo.
When it came time for me to leave, I tried to break it to her gently. “Guitar has to go to sleep now,” I said.
She immediately began crying. No–not the wailing that I’m used to hearing from kids twice her size. It was just silent tears sliding down her face, her hand wiping them away, her face sorrowful.
“Here, let’s help put him away,” her Mama suggested.
“Yes, help me put him to sleep,” I said, indicating the way to lay him down, the strap tucked underneath. We tucked his neck into its spot with the Velcro strap. We zipped him up, careful not to jar him too much.
She was still very sad, but bravely said goodbye.
A few weeks later, we were in the nursery together while her Mama and Daddy had a night out. Other parents had gone out as well, and the kids all played happily together.
I sat in a rocker, and Piper snuggled close to me. Slowly we rocked back and forth. I decided now was as good a time as any to review the guitar parts she had learned.
“Pick,” I began.
“Peck,” she repeated.
“String,” I said.
“String,” she repeated.
“Strap,” I said.
“Strap,” she repeated.
Better.
Then, she piped up. “Pickguard.”
I was floored. How did this little pint remember that word? Most adults don’t even know that word. But she did. I was impressed.
The past few months, I’ve thought a lot about Piper and her curiosity about the guitar. She’s at the perfect age to absorb the small pieces of information I hand her. She wants to know, wants to hear, wants to do. And I love showing her how to know, hear, and do.
Sometimes parents have asked me, “So, when should I start teaching my child how to play an instrument?”
I have always privately believed children should begin learning as soon as they show an interest in any instrument.
Honestly, that’s up to the child and the parent, but I have always privately believed children should begin learning as soon as they show an interest in any instrument.
The early lessons don’t have to be formal. They can be as simple as teaching the parts of the instrument, just like I showed Piper. The point is to let them see and hear and touch the instrument, and if they comprehend the small things, there’s no doubt they can start learning.
Anyone can learn music if they want to. Even a two-year-old with a curious mind–who remembers what a pickguard is on a guitar.
the gypsy life 