Helping others with our guitars, and Kirby's lessons

by LeRoy
(Bangor, MI. USA)

Thank You, Kirby:

In my world, God has given me a series of snapshots, each one precious and unique, windows to my past that illuminate the special moments of my life, and allow me to draw meaning and purpose from the simplicities of every day.

They are there for the taking for each of us, if we only discover the wisdom and insight to claim them.

My guitar and Kirby’s lessons have played in benefit concerts for blind children, the homeless, and the hungry.

I have noticed that when we learn songs well enough, we lift our guitars like we are greeting an old friend, one who has nurtured us through our lives. In tune with the rhythm of each other, married for the moment to bring life to the words, and notes on a page.

The sounds made by our guitars, give us back the feelings and emotions that we have experienced at various times in our lives, and they take up residence in our bodies once again.

Our guitars transform us all, and moves people in a way that nothing else can. Thank You Kirby for teaching us these songs.

Safe journey, smiles along the way, and open arms to welcome you home again,

LeRoy Ward
Bangor, Michigan

P. S.
I have been asked many times how I can make a difference with my guitar, simply put. If anyone wants to play their guitar at a homeless shelter, or a nursing home, they can make a difference.

For me helping others was born out of a dream I had as a very young and poor farm boy. Giving me a sincere desire to see these needs met in the lives of very deserving people.

At the tender age of 8, I was taught to milk cows by hand and my grandfather would always save one quart of milk from “Old Red” the last cow milked every evening.

Then a stuttering farm boy would walk one mile down a country gravel road to the west, to arrive on the front porch of an old woman. It was there on Sunday and Wednesday evenings that Carrie Sommers would open her door, and I would see her wrinkled face split an ear to ear grin as she accepted the gift of one warm, fresh quart of milk, then I would be given one empty container in return.

The walk back home to the farm, even on cold Michigan winter nights warmed my heart to be a part of the giving process, and this simple act started my own path of helping others.

Maybe, just maybe my grandfather knew what he was doing on those Sunday and Wednesday evenings.

“When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life in a manner so that when you die the world cries and you rejoice."

---Native American Proverb---