Fredd was visiting his grandparents in Arizona for a few months while his mom was staying at an in-patient health clinic. The first weekend there they decided to drive out to a small town called Kingman. There were many storefronts to look at, and his grandma loved to shop. In one shop, called Hototo Gifts, Fredd found some panpipes: a musical instrument made of wooden pipes of different length tied in a row and held together by cord and wax. The shop owner said it was also called a pan flute.
Fredd put the flute against his bottom lip and blew like you would to make a sound from a bottle. Nothing happened. He adjusted the position of the flute. Tightening his lips he tried again. A beautiful note sounded, surprising both Fredd and his grandparents. He played some more, and it seemed he had a knack for the instrument. His grandpa bought it for him.
“Thank you, Grandpa!” said Fredd.
“It was meant to be,” Grandpa replied.
Fredd took his pan flute home. He spent many hours in his new room with his new flute teaching himself how to play. Playing helped Fredd with the move. He loved his grandparents and enjoyed spending time with them, but he missed his mom. Sometimes when he was practicing in his room, he would think about his mom and pretend she could hear him. As he played he would pray that she was getting better. This made Fredd, himself, feel better.
He enjoyed it tremendously and again thanked his grandparents for the gift. It truly was a gift because it opened up Fredd’s heart so much that he wanted to play for others. Soon he was performing wonderful songs for friends and family! Every time someone thanked Fredd, Fredd then thanked God for his talent. See, he knew that practice helped him play well, but he also knew that God gifted him with the ability to play as he did. He felt it deep inside and wondered if all musicians felt that way.
God guided Fredd. At times he would hear a still small voice—Fredd would get a feeling that it was time to play a song. See, he discovered that playing his songs would sometimes help the most troubled people feel better. On a few occasions he would raise his flute up in the air to get someone’s attention, then he would bring the flute to his lips and play the perfect song. After the song he would tell people what he felt inside while he was playing. And, these feelings, Fredd’s words, would make the person feel even better.
For instance, one day during the coffee fellowship at church, a woman named Mildred was sitting alone at a table, drinking her coffee. It was a large church with a congregation of at least a hundred people. It seemed strange that she was sitting alone. Fredd felt for Mildred—an empathy. He thought she might be lonely. It was fellowship hour, so he sat down at her table. Her eyes lit up a little when he sat down.
“My name’s Fredd. I’m the Hornby’s grandkid,” he said, introducing himself.
“Hello, Fredd. I’m Mildred. Welcome to Martin Luther Church.”
“Thank you,” replied Fredd. He wondered why she was alone. Perhaps her husband was at home. He didn’t want to be intrusive by asking about her personal life, but he knew she was lonely—he could see it in her eyes. He decided to play a song on his flute for Mildred.
“Do you mind if I play?” he asked.
“No, not at all. I’d love to hear a song,” replied Mildred.
Fredd began a lovely, upbeat tune to brighten her spirit. He played on and on. While he played he pictured Mildred walking down a boardwalk hand in hand with a man her age. He felt happiness, smiles, good health, like a fresh morning and a happy life. Others gathered around their table while he played. A man sat down next to Mildred. This made Mildred smile even more.
When Fredd finished the song, everyone clapped.
“Oh, I’m so happy you found me,” Mildred said to the man. “I almost thought you were going to stand me up!” she said, teasingly.
The man grabbed her hand, “Not a chance,” he replied. He turned to Fredd and complimented him on his playing.
“Thank you,” replied Fredd.
“No,” said Mildred. “Thank you! Your flute is like a shield of faith, magically extinguishing flaming arrows of trouble!”
“You are a poet,” the man commented.
“Well I was sitting here fretting about not finding you in this crowd, and as soon as Fredd started to play all my fears melted away, like magic!” she said.
Fredd blushed. He enjoyed making people feel better, but sometimes their compliments embarrassed him. “It was my pleasure to play for you,” he replied.
“Fredd,” a voice called.
“That’s my grandma. We should get our seats,” said Fredd.
“Enjoy the service,” said the man.
“Bye, Fredd,” said Mildred.
Fredd waved as he walked away and toward his grandparents.
Later that day, after the service, Fredd had another experience involving his music.
After the service, Fredd and his grandparents went out to lunch. Then, as usual, Grandma went home because she was tired. But Grandpa always went to the VA to play bingo. Fredd went along.
On this particular occasion a man at the VA was hoping to win the big pot in the third game. He needed it desperately because his central air conditioner unit had broke and he didn’t have the money to get a new one installed. It would cost $4,000.00! This included duct work repair, the man (his name was Truman) explained.
With hopeful eyes and bingo dabber in hand, he exclaimed, “I believe in miracles! I’m going to win the big pot!”
“He had three bingo cards going at the same time for the third game. One of his cards had every square dabbed with ink, except for one, N33. Truman rubbed the hair on his little, lucky troll doll and waiting for the host to call out the next numbers.
“G47!” the host called.
“Bingo!” a lady called out thereafter.
Truman’s heart sunk into the pit of his stomach. He felt horrible he didn’t win. And, he wondered how he was going to pay for his air conditioning now. He didn’t have any savings left and lived on his social security. He would have to sit in front of a fan and drink lots of water through the hot summer months or until he figured out what to do. But! Truman was a kind man with a gentle heart. He clapped for the lady who won the big pot. He knew her and he was happy for her.
Fredd noticed that Truman would need some cheering up, so asked his grandpa if he could get Truman a lemonade and play him a song. Grandpa smiled and gave him a dollar for the lemonade.
Something special happened. While Fredd played for Truman, other bingo players gather around to listen. The lady who won the big pot placed a wicker basket beside Truman’s bingo cards on the table. She put half her winnings into the basket!
Fredd looked up from his flute, amazed. There was fifteen hundred dollars there.
“Keep playing, sonny,” the lady said to Fredd. Truman’s eyes grew wide in wonder.
As Fredd played a delightful song with an Irish melody others started walking up and adding hundred dollar bills to the basket! By the end of the song Truman had the money he needed to get his air conditioner unit! Tears of gratitude trailed down his cheeks.
Fredd was extremely happy for Truman.
Grandpa was proud of Fredd for helping the wonderful occurrence along. On the drive home Grandpa said, “You know, I was thinking. Remember what the pastor talked about in church this morning?”
“The Armour of God?” said Fredd.
“Yeah,” Grandpa replied. “That flute of yours is like a shield of faith.”
“That’s what Mildred said at church,” Fred observed.
“It’s true,” Grandpa continued. “You raise it up and play your songs, and it’s like God is right there with us turning bad things into good things or simply making people feel better.”
“You think so, Grandpa?”
“I do. And you know what else?”
“What, Grandpa?”
“I bet, if you volunteered at the hospital to play for the patients, it would help them feel better, too. Would that interest you?”
“That’s sounds real good,” Fredd replied.
“Okay, Fredd. I will look into it.”
When they got home they told Grandma all about Truman’s miracle and how Fredd’s song helped it along. Grandma, too, was proud of Fredd.
Fredd did end up playing the flute at the hospital. He took the bus there every Saturday and played for the sick kids in the pediatric unit. He made a lot of friends. The hospital staff fell in love with Fredd, too. He soon knew everyone’s name and had much to talk about with Grandma and Grandpa when he got home.
One day, the Hospital Administrator asked Fredd if he would play for the adults at the rehabilitation clinic on the other side of town. They didn’t get visitors very often because of the limited visitation rules for their recovery. Fredd said he would ask his grandparents. He knew that his mom was at that clinic and he prayed and prayed that his grandparents would say yes. Then his mom could finally, really and truly, hear him play his treasured panpipes!
His grandparents talked it over. They thought it would be a good idea, so they spoke with the doctor in charge of Fredd’s mom’s rehabilitation. She was possibly being released in good health in less than two weeks as it was, so the doctor said it would be okay.
Fredd was enormously happy to see his mom, he had missed her so much. She hugged her little boy so hard Fredd thought he might not have any air left to play her a song! But he played a beautiful Native American melody that brought tears of joy to his mother’s eyes. Then he played a few more songs for all 25 patients. They were all pleased, urging him to play a few more.
With each song his mom felt stronger and stronger. Fredd’s songs gave her the confidence she needed to complete her therapy with flying colors. She went home a new woman and they lived a happy life.
Fredd still spent Sundays with his grandparents, and he continued to volunteer at the hospital on Saturdays. As he grew up he even learned how to play more instruments. He forever loved making people happy with his music.
The End
Fredd a short story from
