A Missed Opportunity
Life is not a bed of roses, and our missed opportunities can take their toll on our personal development. However hard a person may practice something and put his heart into this activity, one wrong decision can frustrate all efforts. Unfortunately, mistakes are inevitable, so everybody makes wrong decisions, and I am no exception. Recently I have been recollecting in memory the special day 10 years ago that had brought some changes in my life. When I was studying at primary school, I used to listen to masterworks of Joshua Bell, who seems to be one of the most famous and glamorous violinists in the world these days. His music inspired me and I decided to start playing a violin as well.
I remember begging my mum to allow me to attend music classes and to learn playing this instrument. After long thoughts, she finally agreed. In my learning to play the violin, I was restless and stubborn. I joined my group at December, and although it was too late to start and nobody believed, that I would make success, I showed a great result at the final concert in May and got “A”. “I’ve done it”, – I thought then. However everything was supposed to change after my mum had got a promotion. Of course, I was proud for her and I didn’t have the slightest idea, that this event would influence my attending the music school. I often remember that evening when at the family dinner my parents said I had to quit playing violin. My mum was sorry to say that she was going to be much too busy to take me from the music school. Unfortunately, she had to work long hours, till 8 or 9 o’clock in the evening.
Considering that lessons at the musical school were over not later than at 6, there was nobody to take me from there. I don’t blame my father for having no wish to help me, because he had plenty more fish in the sea. He hardly ever spent the weekends with us, so it was out of the question to ask him to take me from the music school.I didn’t finish the dinner and went upstairs to my room. I felt like a three-year old child who was building a castle from sand at the seaside and then it was suddenly washed off with water. Mum’s words were still in my head: we are so sorry, honey…I didn’t show out of my room till the next morning. I would sit there much longer if not for hunger. It wasn’t like I was totally embittered and didn’t want to talk to my parents.
It was rather an internal struggle between a desire to continue playing violin and antipathy to mum’s friend who had been visiting us that evening and offered me to stay at her house after the lessons at the musical school. She was ready …
