Sometimes all the llama jokes in the world...

....won't help a kid in extreme distress.

Today in youth orchestra, I was taking the podium (Robert had just finished rehearsing the kids for about 45 minutes) when I realized that I didn't have my score with me. Robert and I were walking around looking for it when we heard a loud "POP" from across the room. When we looked up, little Petunia wasn't sitting in her chair, but was kneeling on the floor. With all the bodies, stands and chairs in the way, we couldn't quite see, but we knew that she had just dropped her violin... hard.

She looked up at us, terrified... and at that moment, I knew it wasn't good. Robert rushed over to her and started surveying the damage. I quickly resumed my search for the lost score; I knew I needed to get the rehearsal back on track quickly. Petunia ended up a sobbing pile of panic in her chair while Dr. Robert was trying to tell her that the damage, while serious, wasn't difficult to fix (the neck had snapped completely off the body). The rest of the orchestra just sat quietly and stared. here was the heartbreaking moment... when she looked at Robert with watery eyes and asked "Could you tell my Dad when he shows up?"

Now, I don't know this family... I don't know if Dad is the loud yelling type (or worse). Even so, it didn't take much to sympathize with this kid. Susan (one of the other staff members) and I ran and rustled up a loaner violin for her to use for the rest of the rehearsal, I found my score (finally) and we were back in business.

But every time I looked down at little Petunia, I could see that she could hardly concentrate on playing. She kept looking over at the door, terrified of the moment that her father would return to collect her at the end of the rehearsal. Finally he did arrive, and I saw Robert pull him aside and talk with him. When we finally dismissed the kids, dad came in the room and made straight for Petunia's violin case. I couldn't read him very clearly... he certainly wasn't happy, but he wasn't yelling either. Susan went over to him and offered the use of the loaner violin while Petunia's went in for repair. They took both violins and left.

I'm sure she's okay. I don't think she got roasted for the damage. But I tell you, never have I seen a more terrified kid... and man, what I wouldn't have done to save her even a little from the panic that she was going through. I remember once when I was a kid I broke something that belonged to my Dad, and I can tell you the hours waiting for him to come home from work were the longest of my life.

Poor kid.