The Unfinished Tune

a Dream of Phil. G. Jackson

He stood at the airport watching the plains come in and take off. Finally the plain that she was to arrive on landed. His heart gave a leap. Would he recognize her? Would she remember him? It had been almost two years since they had first met and the time that they had to get aquatinted had been so short; less than a week. Still it had been love at first sight. The passengers were unloading, now. There she was! All dressed up in a pretty pink dress. The next instant she was in his arms.

"Grandpa!" she shouted in his ear.

He took her out to eat that afternoon. They had a quiet evening at home alone together. He had no TV, so they talked and he played her tunes on his fiddle.

"That's so pretty, grandpa. Let me try." So he taught her the scale and where all the notes were. Then he taught her to play "Mary had a Little Lamb." As long as he held the fiddle up for her she could play the song, but she was only 6 and the fiddle was an adult size fiddle, far too big for her.

"You did so well, honey, that tomorrow I will take you to see my old friend who makes fiddles. I'll buy you one just your size."

"Oh, gee, Grandpa, that will be just great. Then I can play just like you!"

 

The next day he took her to visit his friend. "Hi, Mac. I'd like you to meet my granddaughter. I want to buy a fiddle for her. Do you have any her size?"

"I'm sorry. I don't. I only make children's fiddles on special order. There's not much call for them."

"Oh.... Well, then I guess I'll have to special order one for there. What'll it be, a couple months or so?"

"More like six to ten," Mac replied. "I'm kind of stacked up right now. Seems like this business comes in waves."

"Uh-huh. Well the reason I was asking was because my granddaughter is only going to be with me for two weeks."

"Hummm," Mac said, rubbing his chin. He watched the cute little tike for a minute. Dressed in her frilly dress with her blond curls hanging around her shoulders, she looked like a perfect little lady.

"Just a minute. I'll be right back." When Mac came back he was carrying a small violin case. He laid it gently on the counter and dusted it off. From the case he took a child's size violin. He tuned it up and tightened the bow.

He stooped over. "Here, honey, try this one out for size. I need to know how much bigger or smaller to make yours."

She took the violin from him and looked it over lovingly. Then she tucked it under her chin. She played the scale and then "Mary had a Little Lamb."

"Please pardon my mistakes. Grandpa taught me to play only last night."

"Why, that's marvelous," Mac said with enthusiasm. "She has natural music in her just waiting to find an instrument to play forth on."

"That's why I came to you to get her a fiddle. I was hoping to be able to get her one soon so I could help her learn to play it." Then while the men talked the little girl picked out a tune on the fiddle.

Just then Mac's wife poked her head into the shop. "Who's playing that tune?!" she cried.

"I am, ma'am. There's a tune in this fiddle that wants to come out, but that's all I can find."

The woman collapsed into a near by chair and started to sob. The little girl was startled. She handed the fiddle to her grandpa and put her arms around the woman's shoulders.

"What's the matter? Go ahead and cry. It will make you feel better," the little tike said soothingly and with concern in her voice.

Mac said softly, "Once, long ago, we had a little girl. You remind me very much of her. That fiddle there was hers. I made it for her. And that tune you were playing was a tune that she was making up. It was her song. But she was taken with a fever and died before she got to finish it."

"OH!" the little girl exclaimed, her eyes big and round.

Mac continued, "So you take that fiddle and finish the tune. It's rightfully yours, for no one else could appreciated it as you do. And the fiddle deserves to be played. I could never sell that little fiddle.... But, I'll give it to you, honey. It's yours. You take it and finish that tune. Then you can even make up one of your own."

The little girl gave Mac a great big hug. Tears glistened in her eyes as she promised, "I will. I will. And I'll play them both for you."

This is a Dream that Phil. G. Jackson, my step-dad, had in June 1980.