Twenty-five dollars.

Some may know and others may not, but I am a musician. Music is a way that I can effectively express myself, my emotions, and my state of being. It has been for a very long time. At least 20 years. And usually, I am not one to "toot my own horn", but in recognizing a great talent given to me by my Heavenly Father, I must say that it's always come very naturally to me.

I began playing the piano when I was eight years old and began playing the flute when I was eleven. I excitedly entered middle school and signed myself up for Band as my elective course. As we auditioned for chairs in 6th grade, I quickly became 1st chair and as others challenged me for my seat, I never gave it up. 7th grade came around and one afternoon as I was chatting with our band director, I mentioned to him that I would really love to learn to play the french horn. He chuckled at my immaturity and told me that I was too valuable of a flute player to switch instruments. A few weeks passed and all the while I admired from a distance that great french horn instrument. It was so beautiful, a sight to see, and I wanted it to be mine. I asked again; can I please learn to play the french horn? Again; no. Third time's a charm, right? I asked again and was given a slightly different reply, but one that was still meant to deter me. "I'll let you give the french horn a try. I will send you to the backroom and if you can teach yourself to play the B-flat concert scale in a half hour, then I will let you take one home to practice on." Agreed!

Note that I had never played a brass instrument, was not accustomed to buzzing my lips, and had no clue of the fingering on a french horn. But still, it was destiny; I taught myself a scale by the end of the half hour mark and I was allowed to take the instrument home to practice on. The next challenge given to me was to learn to play the instrument up to the level the rest of the band was on. If I could do that, then I would be allowed to switch instruments and play french horn with the rest of the band. Agreed!

I began taking private lessons and practicing at home. Within a few short weeks, I felt that I was to the level of my classmates and I presented myself before Mr. Smith again. He tested me on my mad skills and I was admitted into the band! Soon, I was 1st chair again.

One afternoon, I heard of an upcoming audition for Middle School All-County Band. Mr. Smith challenged me and a few classmates that we should audition, but he told me that I should probably stick to the flute if I really wanted a chance. I was in love though. French Horn was my thing and I chose to audition on my new instrument. And I made it. All-District Band tryouts were soon after and again, I made it. All-State auditions were after that and again, I made it! This went on year after year through middle school and into high school. As a freshman, I was placed in the upper classmen (11th and 12th grade) band class. When chair auditions took place, I made 1st chair as a freshman. And this is how it went through high school. I continued to take part in All-County, All-District, and All-State year after year. It was very fulfilling to me and I loved every minute of it.

My Senior year rolled around and it was time to choose where I wanted to attend college and what I wanted to pursue educationally. Music.

I was offered scholarships to several universities and in the end, I chose to attend Brigham Young University as a French Horn Performance major. I quickly met, fell in love with, and married my husband and my music quickly fell to the wayside in order to graduate with him and follow him to dental school. Over the last 8 years, I've tried to keep up with my playing abilities just enough. Just enough that I can still play a tune every once in a while. And I have big dreams of playing again. And being good again. And playing with an orchestra. And expressing myself musically again. And teaching my children to play too.

Twenty-five dollars. My mom called me a few weeks ago as she was perusing the local Goodwill store. As she was looking through the Christmas decorations aisle, she spotted an old French Horn in perfect working order and in fairly good condition pushed up on the shelf under some holly berries and red bows. On the price tag was printed: $25.00. $25 for an instrument that costs literally into the thousands?! Some unknowing worker must have thought it to be an old hunting horn used for Christmas decorating. And for Twenty-five dollars, it's now mine...for my kids!

There's no way I'd ever let them touch MY horn...my expensive, flawless, unscratched horn. But this, I can guiltlessly let them play it all they want! And so far, it's still a huge novelty to them. They beg to play it all day long! Nevermind the fact that the instrument itself is nearly as large as them. They don't mind at all. And I don't either. And never fear...I'm loving every minute of the dying-cow-sounding-strain. Sorry neighbors...but we have some budding musicians on our hands!