THE TRUE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT (a true story about Nat "King" Cole)
by Jay Steinberg
I had taken piano lessons for only a year (1950) when my family moved, and I was transferred to a different school. I had to buckle down with classes, so I stopped the lessons and didn't play again for almost ten years. In 1956, my Dad's B'nai Brith Lodge had worked with Nat "King" Cole on a successful children's program, and decided to honor him with an award for his untiring and benevolent efforts. Mr. Cole was appearing at a club in Cherry Hill, NJ (across the river from Philadelphia ). During his show, he used an unusual
instrument, a clavietta, a large harmonica with a piano keyboard. It had a very haunting sound that captivated me. After the show, and after the award, I had a chance to chat with Mr. Cole about music, and the clavietta (Italian for "little piano"). He'd bought his in Rome on tour for $70, and told me they would be available in New York City towards Christmas. He thanked me for my compliments about his show, and said if I wrote him a letter care of the club by the weekend, he would reply and let me know what store would carry the claviettas. I thanked him gleefully, wrote the letter that evening, and made a deal with my folks: I'd save the $70 if they'd pay for my trip from Philly to NYC. They agreed.
The summer came and went. It wasn't until November that Mr. Cole's letter arrived.
He specified the NYC music store, wrote a wonderfully-detailed and friendly letter,
and even included the titles of 22 songs he felt were the most conducive to the unique
sound of the clavietta. What an absolutely marvelous and kind gift!
It was early December before I finally took the train trip to NYC. The streets were filled with shoppers and non-stop Holiday music. When I arrived at the music store, I asked the manager about claviettas. He looked at me and asked: "Your name Steinberg?" I nodded. He led me to a cabinet, opened a drawer, and pointed to one. "That's yours." Puzzled, I raised the container lid. There on the clavietta keyboard was a business-card-sized note which read: "Play good notes. Love, Nat." I was stunned. "It's pre-paid", said the manager. "Mr. Cole said if you got here from Philly, it's yours." This was the true Christmas spirit.
That clavietta, and the acts of kindness that went with it, got me back to playing the piano and becoming a professional concert pianist/composer for the last 27 years. All my awards and joy of music stem from that blessed man and his heartfelt gift, a gift that taught me to give to others in kind, no matter how high up on the ladder of success you were able to climb. Then and now, every time I hear "Unforgettable", I whisper to his soul: "Yes, you are, Nat."
ONE HOUR
For Christmas, I suggest a Gift
To make your spirit soar--
A Gift that only you can give.
No one could ask for more.
This Gift requires some sacrifice,
Although its cost is low.
Both parties must be willing to
Accept that each may grow.
But, first, your ear-buds must come out,
Your screens must all go dark;
No Facebook updates are allowed,
Or, cell phones' urgent bark!
This Gift is just One Hour of
Your undivided time,
To look into another's eyes
In silent, perfect rhyme,
To sit across a table and
To hold another's hand,
To listen to another's heart,
And, truly, understand!
Doug "Rabbit" Sutherland
