When I was younger my Dad thought I should learn to play an instrument, so started me on piano lessons. I needed to practice at home, so Dad went to Rushworth and Dreapers in town to get one. The pianos in the shop were all too expensive for us, but the kind man in the shop said he'd see what he could do. My Dad went back to the shop some weeks later and the man had found an old upright piano that had been sold back to them, done it up for us, and gave it to us for cheap. It was painted white and had a lovely ornate front and I played it for many years. When I was older and got married I took the piano with me to my new home and continued to play. When I had my first son, however, both he and I were very ill and the doctor recommended some fresh air. In order to pay for the holiday I had to sell my piano, but it was worth it for our health. My husband always said he would buy me another, and sure enough he worked hard until he saved enough to buy another upright which sits proudly in my back room. I will never forget my first beautiful piano though, or the kind man in Rushworth and Dreapers.