Devotions

"!Hola, que tal, Pepe?" And with that, I began a dubious lifelong hobby:

Memorizing and Reciting Foreign Language Dialogues

It began innocently enough in my 9th grade beginning Spanish class. I found it easy, entertaining and engaging – a magic combination for my twisted mind. And it was to serve me well through the ensuing years.

Here's how it worked: I would recall certain memorized dialogues from a few languages – Russian, French, German, Italian, and Spanish – and would recite them whenever the situation warranted it; and often, alas, even when it didn't.

It was innocent fun, and seemed to suit my Jack of Few Languages, Master of None mentality, which implies, “Don’t ask me to communicate with anyone, just wind me up, let me rattle off my nonsense phrases, and we’ll all have a great time ~ at least one of us will.”

No one had ever challenged me, until that fateful evening in July 1969. We were newly married and I was meeting new relatives for the first time. As is often the case, I wanted to earn my place in the family and make a lasting impression. So when Uncle Roy brought out his guitar and requested a mini-concert for the group, I was “game.”

He handed me his beautifully hand-carved, perfectly tuned Spanish guitar and ushered me to an exquisite antique velvet chair beside the stately fireplace. Seated “center-stage” with this classic instrument on my lap, I smiled broadly while scanning the crowd for a friendly face on which to focus. There it was: Uncle Roy, beaming ear to ear, eager and expectant– just what I needed to spur me on.

The crowd was hushed, as I mentally scrolled through my repertoire, trying to decide on the perfect piece for this memorable moment

Hmm, my Spanish Love Ballad has always been a crowd-pleaser, I mused

Inspired by that thought, I took a deep breath, smiled and began to strum and sing.

Now, for some reason, I had never really bothered to learn all the words to this Spanish love song. But, not to worry! I would do as I'd always done, plug in some of my old Spanish dialogues where needed, and no one would be the wiser.

Folks were listening intently, swaying to the soft rhythm and lilting melody of this romantic ballad, totally unaware of my substituted lyrics which were, to the unsuspecting ear, actually quite lovely. In reality, however, the first verse translated thusly:

"A fat girl ... with fingers as chubby as pork sausages was picking tomatoes off the vine..."

I kept smiling and singing; they kept listening and swaying.

“This is going well,” I surmised -- so, onward and upward, to verse two:

"Oh, Papa! My kitten, Pancho, has escaped! Quick! Have you searched under the staircase? No! Let’s look out in the street! Oh no, poor little Pancho! He will be so frightened with all that noisy traffic..."

I was on a roll.

Somewhere midway through the 3rd verse, I caught a glimpse of Uncle Roy, wide-eyed and frantically trying to adjust his hearing apparatus. Why had no one bothered to tell me that this man had spent half his life in South America, and was fluent in Spanish?

I had wanted to make a lasting impression, and indeed I had. Not long afterward, God came into my life and gave me a desire to tuck away worthwhile words into my heart and mind. As I began to memorize the real words – His priceless, promising, powerful truths from Scripture— I discovered their life-changing potential, not only for us but for others too, as we share them openly, with a smile on our face and a song in our heart.

The Spanish Love Ballad

Learning the real words



	The Spanish Love Ballad Learning the real words "!Hola, que tal, Pepe?" And with that, I began a dubious lifelong hobby: Memorizing and Reciting Foreign Language Dialogues It began innocently enough in my 9th grade beginning Spanish class. I found it easy, entertaining and engaging – a magic combination for my twisted mind. And it was to serve me well through the ensuing years. Here's how it worked: I would recall certain memorized dialogues from a few languages – Russian, French, German, Italian, and Spanish – and would recite them whenever the situation warranted it; and often, alas, even when it didn't. It was innocent fun, and seemed to suit my Jack of Few Languages, Master of None mentality, which implies, “Don’t ask me to communicate with anyone, just wind me up, let me rattle off my nonsense phrases, and we’ll all have a great time ~ at least one of us will.” No one had ever challenged me, until that fateful evening in July 1969. We were newly married and I was meeting new relatives for the first time. As is often the case, I wanted to earn my place in the family and make a lasting impression. So when Uncle Roy brought out his guitar and requested a mini-concert for the group, I was “game.” He handed me his beautifully hand-carved, perfectly tuned Spanish guitar and ushered me to an exquisite antique velvet chair beside the stately fireplace. Seated “center-stage” with this classic instrument on my lap, I smiled broadly while scanning the crowd for a friendly face on which to focus. There it was: Uncle Roy, beaming ear to ear, eager and expectant– just what I needed to spur me on. The crowd was hushed, as I mentally scrolled through my repertoire, trying to decide on the perfect piece for this memorable moment Hmm, my Spanish Love Ballad has always been a crowd-pleaser, I mused Inspired by that thought, I took a deep breath, smiled and began to strum and sing. Now, for some reason, I had never really bothered to learn all the words to this Spanish love song. But, not to worry! I would do as I'd always done, plug in some of my old Spanish dialogues where needed, and no one would be the wiser. Folks were listening intently, swaying to the soft rhythm and lilting melody of this romantic ballad, totally unaware of my substituted lyrics which were, to the unsuspecting ear, actually quite lovely. In reality, however, the first verse translated thusly: "A fat girl ... with fingers as chubby as pork sausages was picking tomatoes off the vine..." I kept smiling and singing; they kept listening and swaying. “This is going well,” I surmised -- so, onward and upward, to verse two: "Oh, Papa! My kitten, Pancho, has escaped! Quick! Have you searched under the staircase? No! Let’s look out in the street! Oh no, poor little Pancho! He will be so frightened with all that noisy traffic..." I was on a roll. Somewhere midway through the 3rd verse, I caught a glimpse of Uncle Roy, wide-eyed and frantically trying to adjust his hearing apparatus. Why had no one bothered to tell me that this man had spent half his life in South America, and was fluent in Spanish? I had wanted to make a lasting impression, and indeed I had. Not long afterward, God came into my life and gave me a desire to tuck away worthwhile words into my heart and mind. As I began to memorize the real words – His priceless, promising, powerful truths from Scripture— I discovered their life-changing potential, not only for us but for others too, as we share them openly, with a smile on our face and a song in our heart.