Lauren Waltz at ages 6 and 16

Commitment: A Very Special Ten-Year Anniversary

By Janice Waltz Today is my daughter's anniversary. Not her wedding anniversary and not any other anniversary most people are accustomed to celebrating. Today is my daughter's violin anniversary. I still remember the warm, lazy day in August my six-year old and I arrived at her violin teacher's home overlooking the Susquehanna River. "I'd like to challenge you to practice playing your violin for one hundred days in a row," her teacher announced as the lesson began. "You will be surprised how your playing will improve and you'll learn some discipline too. Besides that-if you practice for a hundred days without skipping a single day, you'll get a trophy!" "Cool! I'm definitely going to do it," was Lauren's confident reply. Twenty-two days went by, then thirtytwo and forty-two. Lauren graduated Twinkles and moved on to the "big league." On day fiftyeight we went to the beach for a long weekend. On day seventy- nine we went to grandmother's for a visit without the violin and stayed longer than we'd planned. As we pulled into our garage 20 | P a g e at home that night my husband offered to carry our sleeping daughter up to her room and tuck her in bed. "No, I think we should wake her so she can practice violin just a little if she wants. She's kept this one-hundred- day commitment so far, and I know she'd be very disappointed," I replied. A sleepy, disheveled Lauren played several Book One pieces be fore tumbling into bed. It was day ninety-six and after several days of fever and congestion, Lauren was diagnosed with pneumonia. We called to cancel her violin lesson for the week. "She can start over if she misses a day of practice because she's sick," we were told. I said I wouldn't miss, and I'm not going to let anything stop me," Lauren firmly reprimanded me as she detected hesitation in my resolve. Not to be foiled by fever and chills, Lauren feebly played Allegro. Finally we made it to Day One Hundred and I breathed a sigh of relief. Lauren proudly accepted congratulations and a six-inch trophy proclaiming her accomplishment. "Now you can take a day off once in a while, her teacher encouraged her.

Oh, no, Lauren quickly replied. "I love my violin. Im going to practice it every day until the day I die! I smiled, enjoying my daughter's determination and her passion for her instrument, though finding that level of commitment hard to envision in a six year-old. The weeks passed, the months and then the years, and the daily practicing continued. Lauren played in dozens of recitals, attended summer institutes and joined numerous orchestras. Her playing improved and her violin became a part of her identity. We took vacations, went camping, and tagged along on international business trips with my husband. The violin was always there. No one questioned whether we should take it along; it was a part of our family. Lauren practiced her violin during layovers in airports across Europe and South America. Her violin case picked up a little Amazon mud as we trekked through the lowlands of Bolivia. She practiced in motel rooms and once between dashes to the bathroom to throw up. We planned a high altitude backpacking trip in the Pecos Wilderness of New Mexico. Lauren's violin was an indispensible of her pack. Once, after a day of sightseeing in Denali National Park in Alaska from early morning until late at night, we realized we wouldnt be home before midnight for Laruens violin practice. Uncle Mark pulled over beside the highway at 11:30 p.m. and took the violin out of the trunk of the car. Lauren treated us to an outdoor concert in the summer twilight of Alaskas midnight sun. I reflect back on all of those days of practicing and what theyve meant to Lauren and to our family. Certainly shes become an accomplished violinist, yet not a prodigy, not a star. More importantly, shes developed a deep love of music and the character traits of determination and persistence. When Lauren sets a goal, she doesnt give up easily. Ive seen that carry over into her commitment in other areas. You never know when youll be called on to use those character traits of determination and stick-to-it-ness. Laurens opportunity came in her seventh year of unbroken daily 22 | P a g e

violin practice. Without warning one day her shoulder joints began to dislocate spontaneously with the slightest provocation. Within weeks, joints all over her body were repeatedly sliding out of socket. She was diagnosed with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, a rare genetic disorder. Her world dissolving, Lauren focused on her violin. With aching joints too sore to hold the violin properly, she persisted in playing as well as she could. A renowned orthopedist exhorted Lauren to follow a grueling exercise regimen four times a day to strengthen her muscles. 1 knew if anyone could do it, Lauren could. She had more discipline than any one 1 knew. She did do those exercises and she did continue with daily violin practice. One day both her kneecaps dislocated and she was confined to a wheelchair. That night she refused to skip a school concert. Then, with an audition in a regional youth orchestra coming up, Lauren persisted in practicing as tears of pain rolled down her cheeks. Weeks later, she was chosen as concertmaster for the orchestra. When spring came, Lauren prevailed over her parents, her doctor, and the school nurse to attend the ~ first day of school soccer tryouts wearing braces on her shoulders, her elbows, her knees and her ankles. She made the varsity team and played wing all season without a single dislocation. Where did all that determination and discipline come from? 1 remember a small sixyear old with her jaw set announcing to two skeptical adults that she would play her violin every day for the rest of her life. I remember all those days when it was very inconvenient or downright difficult to find time to practice, and I know where Lauren god the character she needed to fact the challenges that lay ahead of her. Today is my daughters anniversary. Today she has practiced her violin for ten years without skipping a single day. It has made her who she is.