The fact that my father gifted me with a guitar in middle school still feels like a miracle. I did not ask for one. Ours wasn't a particularly musical home, though my dad loved his barbershop tunes. Maybe part of the magic was the unspoken message that he believed I could learn to play. So I did. 

There were no regular lessons, until college anyway, when I signed up for classical guitar. But all through high school I played for my friends in the dorm, at camp, and just for fun. It was the fertile ground for composing my own songs, which is as much a part of who I am as quilting. 

One of the few jobs I landed from people who did not already know me was as a guitar teacher. I had rallied my courage to approach the director of a local arts center to offer myself as a sewing instructor. They were polite, but had no need for such a class. 

"But if you know anyone who can teach guitar, we are very interested."

"I play guitar," I smiled. We raced through details like compensation and classes per week, and I drove home singing. Then they called me. 

"We realized that we should probably hear you play," she said sheepishly. 

I drove back and showed them my skills. I think the bar was pretty low, but I passed. Over the next five years a string of eight to twelve year old kids joined my classes and I tried to inspire them with the five chords that open up a hundred songs for the asking. It is unclear whether any of them loved it. 

I have tried not to take it personally. Either you want to log the hours practicing or you don't. I did, and the reward was a lifetime of strumming. 

My own children were not especially curious about playing, even though there was always a guitar leaning against the wall. After six and seven children who chose other hobbies, like improv and knitting, I stopped holding my breath. So be it. 

But my ninth child began playing while living in Spain. Out of reach from any interference from me, she made it past the awkward stage of pauses between chords, and grew calluses. 

Rather than expecting it, it feels like a miracle.