One of our St. Patrick’s Day gigs this year was in Junction City, Kansas. The Hussies always love a road trip, and this one was especially important because we were hired by my sister to play at the Good Samaritan Center for the residents and their families. Everyone was decked out in green baubles and rub-on tattoos, and looking forward to the music and the treats to be served after the performance.
The highlight of the day, besides seeing my sister, brother-in-law, and his parents, all of whom are so precious to me, was a young woman for whom life must have been very hard. She wandered in and out of the room several times during our warm-up. The first time she came in, we were playing the Welsh lullaby, All Through the Night. She sang along with great gusto, and it made me smile that the tune was familiar to her.
The next time she came in, I was focused on the music, and not really paying attention to what else was going on. We were playing something sweet, I don’t remember what, and when I looked up, I saw her dancing in the back of the room. I was mesmerized, and grateful to witness such a private moment. Her countenance was transformed and her face glowed with transcendence. Suddenly, the hardships of her life faded away, and even the fact that she was in a wheel chair couldn’t stop her from moving to the music that inspired her.
It is these moments that keeps me making music for others. Music touches our lives in ways nothing else can or does. It brings us to tears and makes us laugh. It fills our hearts and eases our pain. And it gives us moments when we can see the face of God in the here and now.
The highlight of the day, besides seeing my sister, brother-in-law, and his parents, all of whom are so precious to me, was a young woman for whom life must have been very hard. She wandered in and out of the room several times during our warm-up. The first time she came in, we were playing the Welsh lullaby, All Through the Night. She sang along with great gusto, and it made me smile that the tune was familiar to her.
The next time she came in, I was focused on the music, and not really paying attention to what else was going on. We were playing something sweet, I don’t remember what, and when I looked up, I saw her dancing in the back of the room. I was mesmerized, and grateful to witness such a private moment. Her countenance was transformed and her face glowed with transcendence. Suddenly, the hardships of her life faded away, and even the fact that she was in a wheel chair couldn’t stop her from moving to the music that inspired her.
It is these moments that keeps me making music for others. Music touches our lives in ways nothing else can or does. It brings us to tears and makes us laugh. It fills our hearts and eases our pain. And it gives us moments when we can see the face of God in the here and now.
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