The writer of this poem, Mary Alice Sanford, came into my life in 1908. Her family moved into the flat above mine some time in August of that year. Her mother informed me that she was musical, and from the way she spoke I expected to see a young woman of about nineteen or twenty years. I was surprised, instead, a few days later, to see a slip of a schoolgirl looking at me in a timid way and rather reserved in manner. Later I invited her into the studio and I asked her if she liked music, to which she said yes. During the call she said she wished to sing. She had never had any instruction, her music was instrumental altogether. After she had given me an example of her instrumental work I said she should sing also, but at this she informed me she could not afford the vocal with the other, but her desire was to sing as well as play. I asked her what ability she had for reading or accompanying. She informed me she read her notes rapidly. At this I handed her the fifty lessons by Concone and opened to the first exercises, asked her to play while I sang for her. I thought perhaps the first lessons were too easy so I gave her a more difficult one, and I found she could read the most difficult lessons in the book and accompany with the greatest ease. I asked her her age, and she informed me in a month she would be sixteen years old. I asked her if she would like to earn her own lessons. She looked at me surprised at my proposition. Before her visit was over it was agreed she should be accompanist for my students, who needed her services. This was glorious news to her mother, who so greatly desired her to sing but was unable to give her both branches at this time, and she had also just pride that her daughter was able through her musical knowledge to give herself the much longed for opportunity which had come to her so unexpectedly. Everything was complete now, and the lessons began at once.