The night Elizabeth Smart returned home nine months after being abducted, she sat down and played the piano with her family gathered around. I heard a few people comment that they found that very strange. But it wasn't, you know. As a musician, it probably felt good to her to play favorite songs on a familiar instrument in her home setting, after so long. And along with that, it's really part of the Mormon cultural mores.

Mormon girls play the piano. A Mormon girl who hasn't had piano lessons is an anomaly. It's not explicitly stated in any church doctrine that a girl must play piano, but it is expected. Music has always been important to the church since its beginning and the hymns are a major part of the church services. In most meetings, there will be a chorister to get up and lead the singing, while a pianist accompanies.

As a Mormon girl, I naturally learned to play the piano. Actually, let me restate that. As a Mormon girl, I naturally took piano lessons. Have you had the chance to listen to my audio post where I'm singing? I'm not musically talented. But it was important to Ma.

I started taking lessons at the five from a church chorister. She was a pretty blonde teenager who lived with her parents. Her name was Emily. I had my lessons in her home. She was encouraging and I paid close attention and did my very best. First I learned to play with just my right hand and then just my left, then, amazingly, both together.

My next teacher was an elderly woman from Wales. She was a lovely person, but her pedagogical technique cannot be recommended. Instead of the short simple tunes meant to teach one technique at a time, she provided me with some sort of concert piece. She felt it was important to challenge the student. I was to learn one measure at a time, perfectly, before going on to the next. After several months, I was still working on the third measure.

I was with my next piano teacher (a young Blythe Danner lookalike) several years and I gradually came to realize that I just wasn't a musician. But "Blythe" was very fond of me, so I kept trying. Out of the blue one day, Ma said that I had learned all that I could from this piano teacher and I would be going to a new one. It wasn't until I was an adult that I found out that this coincided with the discovery of my Father's affair with "Blythe". I guess "Blythe" was fond of him, too. Or his accent.

My next teacher was a single mother supporting her five children by giving music lessons. She was a good musician. I think, if I'd any talent, she could have honed it. She probably would not have continued the lessons, which were difficult for both of us, if she hadn't needed the money.

Finally, when I was fifteen, Ma heard one of my classmates play the piano. After ten years of lessons, I was still struggling with John Thompson's Third Grade Book. My classmate was playing a piece from John Thompson's Fifth Grade Book. She did a wonderful job. Ma complimented her sincerely. "How long have you been taking lessons?", Ma asked. And the girl answered, "For over a year now!"

That night, without mentioning anyone's talent or lack of it, Ma told me that if I wanted to continue piano lessons I could. I admitted that I'd rather not. And that was that!