Truth in Family Legend

When I was seven years old, a seed was planted. It sprouted and a small plant emerged. This plant grew and grew until it reached the sky. It cast a shadow over my life for so long that I could no longer conceive of a time when it was not a part of me. Others were told about my plant and, as they believed, so did I.

As this plant grew, it sucked from my innermost being the gifts that I had been given at birth in order to grow. I lived in its shadow and did not see the sun.

As I grew older, my life shifted, and I began to question my beliefs. I took time to look at what had been sowed in my life’s garden, and I didn’t like what I saw. Many weeds had been cultivated as if they were to be cherished. One by one, I began the task of plucking them out and planting new seeds. The time came at last when I was ready to look at the plant that cast its shadow over the whole garden.

First, I looked at when it had been planted. This one was planted when a teacher in my school asked during a play rehearsal, “Who’s making that horrible noise?” One by one she had each of my classmates stop singing until I was the only one left. There I was singing my heart out and enjoying myself to no end, when I was told to be quiet. I was to sing no more. I was to pretend to sing.

I went home and asked my mother about my singing. She had me sing my song over and over, each time telling me, “No, not like that, like this,” and then she would sing the phrase again in tune. I tried and tried, but I couldn’t match what I heard in my head with my voice. I was told I was tone deaf and couldn’t carry a tune if it were in a bucket.

For the rest of their lives, my parents believed that I was tone deaf. They joked about it, and my brothers and sisters accepted the belief and teased me about my singing. I smiled and didn’t say anything because I didn’t want them to think I wasn’t a good sport. But inside, I cried. I avoided music at all costs since each of the notes that reached my ears carried within it a pain that pierced my heart.

Life went on. I found myself reluctant to step out and try other creative activities. I located a large shell and crawled under it. I believed that if I showed myself, I was presenting a target for others to make fun of. Since this was my belief system, life fell into a pattern that fulfilled that system.

I grew up and left home. My parents passed on. Slowly, healing began. With the help of a loving woman, I began to examine my beliefs. I tried out my wings and found that I could do many things I had thought were beyond me.

Finally, after several years, I began to circle the largest plant in my garden and examine it. First, I realized I could tell when I was singing out of tune, so I could not be totally tone deaf. My plant’s leaves began to curl at the edges when I claimed that belief.

I realized that even though my voice was not very good, perhaps, I could try playing an instrument. I was in a store one day and saw a guitar. Without understanding the impulse, I bought it and took it home to sit in a corner. My plant began to wilt that day.

After a month or two, I tried playing my new guitar. I wasn’t very good but, this time, instead of believing our family legend, I went out and found a very patient teacher. He worked with me until, at last, I could hear my guitar playing music. I was making music! The one who was told not to sing had, at last, found a different voice to use.

I am now playing in a small band - and loving it. Somewhere along the way, my plant died, and I didn’t even notice. Now, I live in sunlight and rejoice, for what I thought was once lost is now found.

Can you challenge your beliefs about yourself that others sowed in you while you were still a child? See if they are true. I can testify that it is a life-changing experience. And one well worth the effort.

- Merry Liteheart 
Orwell, Ohio, U.S.A.