Last night eleven-year-old lovely lady's choir sang at a nursing home (or retirement community or assisted living facility or whatever it was called). The girls were relaxed and confident. They were only a few feet from their audience, singing songs that they love. And something magical happened. They forgot they were performing and they just sang together. Beautifully. Sweetly. Simply. "Peace, peace, peace on earth...."
The elderly woman next to me stopped talking. The staff stopped to listen. I had tears in my eyes. A woman sitting in the front row quavered "Beautiful. Beautiful," when the girls finished their song.
Why? Their voices were sweet and pretty, but not perfect, not professional, not angelic. And those sweet girls are no angels. They're just regular kids. Sweet and good and kind and snotty and thoughtless and rotten. Just like the rest of us.
But in that moment they sang of peace on earth and meant it. When these children sing "Let us all sing together of peace on earth," they still believe that peace is possible. They imagine still nights, and dream of people around the world holding hands and greeting one another with love. A choir made up of grownups with the finest of voices could never sing that song the way those girls did. Whatever challenges the girls may face in their individual lives it is likely that most of them didn't wake up in the morning to read a story in the paper about three little boys...little boys...blown up because their father works for a government with which the bombers disagree. (Why do I read the paper? Stories like this bring me to tears. "What's the matter, Mom?" asks the six-year-old gent. Do I tell? Or not?) Stories of poverty and famine and war from all across the world. Knowledge of the truly horrible things that human beings can do to one another. Once we grow up and start to see the world, I don't think we can truly sing the words "Peace on earth" without regret and grief mingled with our hopes for peace on earth, goodwill to all.
Did I say those girls aren't angels? Maybe they are, just a bit. Their choir director asked them to please visit with the audience for just a little while-- to say hello, and introduce themselves, and maybe tell a little about their lives. Those sweet girls, they were truly lovely ladies. Almost every single girl made a real effort to reach out and talk to the men and women in the audience. My lovely lady said that it was her favorite part of the whole visit. Even better than the cookies and card-making party afterward? Yes, she said. She was thrilled that she'd met a woman who is 93 years old. She wants to go back to visit sometime.
Peace and goodwill to all.
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