Estimated Reading Time 1 Minutes
The light was bright and the room was quiet. Hundreds of faces, some familiar and some not, were turned towards a small girl who stood on a stage. She wore a blue dress, simple and elegant, and her caramel-colored hair was smooth and straight down to her shoulders. She was not especially beautiful, but she had a kind face and there were hints of laughter in her eyes.
Somewhere in the back of the stage, someone started to play the piano. The melody was mediocre but became sweeter at the sound of her voice as she suddenly started to sing. She had a child’s voice but was beyond the talent of many more experienced singers.
She sang a high note here and a low note there. She sang of Winter turned into Spring, and of the love a child can bring. She sang a song of hope and a song of sadness. She sang about courage and showing gladness.
And as she sang suddenly I stood. I felt her song was my own. When I opened my mouth to sing I found my voice, though not as accomplished, could accompany hers without shame. She smiled at me and we sang together in simple harmony. Then others were standing around me and joining the chorus. Not a voice was unworthy to the song, but all added to the melody and spirit of the little girl. I have never heard such a beautiful sound before; the voices of many coming together as one.
Suddenly, it was over. The song ended. The girl smiled, curtseyed, and left the stage. There was no applause. Everyone was caught up in the moment. Then one by one we left the room and went back to our individual lives.
