Patricia taught me as much at the piano as she did away from it. I don’t remember what my lessons cost. I do know that, at a certain point, I was no longer able to afford them, and too young to appreciate her time given for free. The solution was that I work to earn my lessons. And work I did!

The Smiths had a long mahogany dining table that would seat 18 people for special occasion dinners. For these, beauty and elegance were as important as the food itself. Patricia had a lovely set of handmade Irish linens. One of my jobs was to launder and hand press the tablecloth, the runner, and each individual napkin. Above the table hung a Swarovski Crystal Chandelier. I would stand on a ladder and polish each individual pendant with white vinegar.

Often she would have me assist her in the kitchen as she prepared elegant meals. For one dinner, we prepared an individual beef wellington for each guest.

For every three hours of work, she would provide me with 30 minutes of instruction. From those work sessions I gained memories that would accompany me through my life. I learned about what it took to live the refined life of this swanlike woman. It was enough to simply be near her, this extraordinary woman who was my mentor.

She wanted to introduce me to culture. On several occasions she would have me come to the house for her soirees. She would tell me to move among her guests with plates of hors d’oeuvre. It was important that I listen and watch. It was her wish that I would learn to hold myself in different kinds of social settings, and never feel beneath those around me. There were always interesting people at her parties! There were actors, artists, musicians, and even an occasional celebrity. One night I met Vincent Price.

There was one party I remember most. I had learned Edward McDowell’s third piano sonata, and Patricia wanted me to perform it for her guests. The time came for me to play. I took off my apron and took my place at the Steinway. Everyone listened in silence. There were brief applause, and I bowed and resumed socializing. A very beautiful woman rushed over, took my hands in hers, and complimented me on my performance. Embarrassed by the attention, I nervously confessed that I had made a few mistakes in the early measures…

Suddenly I felt a firm hand grasp my arm and pull me into the kitchen. It was Patricia. She quietly admonished me for pointing out my mistake, and told me I must never do that again. She wanted me to regard each compliment as a precious gift. In my life, I would receive many compliments. I needed to learn to accept each one with grace and sincerity. After she was finished making her point, she handed me a plate of canapés, and sent me back out to the party.