This weekend I sang in a seasonal concert, along with hundreds of other choir members. Always fills my heart to hear so many voices united together.
As I rushed to find my place with fellow choir members, I saw a beautiful smiling face from my past. She looked right at me, smiled big, and said, “Well, hello!”
It took only a moment to place her face in the right spot in my memory.
She was the ever patient voice teacher who took my feeble voice and shaped it into the most beautiful thing I never thought I was capable of producing. I entered her voice studio timid, a little scared, and lacking lots of confidence in my vocal ability. I also lacked a lot of knowledge about classical music and didn't particularly enjoy singing it.
I can't imagine I was easy to work with.
After a couple years of lessons, I performed a recital. Months after my recital, I received a recording. I put the disc in, not intending to listen to the whole thing. I hate hearing myself, and figured I'd listen to a few measures just to reminisce.
Then I heard myself sing. I couldn't believe what I heard. The tone was beautiful, the sound full, and the voice couldn't be mine.
That woman never gave up on me and the end product was pretty cool. I know she probably got frustrated with me along the way, but her beautiful smile rarely faltered. She pushed through every single lesson where I wanted to give up. She made me keep going. She not only taught me how to sing, she taught me to love beautiful music. After studying with her, I began to truly understand the beauty that is Bach and Beethoven.
I couldn't believe that over ten years later, she still remembered me. After all the students she has taught, she remembered my face.
Her husband jokingly asked her if I could sing. I replied, “Thanks to her, I can.”
Mrs. Ford just smiled big in response and said, “She has a lovely voice.”
That made my week.