Many cello students of the Poel Music School had a concert this morning in a small blue chapel, with stained glass behind.

I forgot to take a photo, but this one from the Internet gives you a good idea:

One cellist at a time walks onstage, joined only by a pianist.  The small audience waits as the heart of the musician slowly rises up the throat.  My throat.

I did as I had asked myself to do … play with passion, no matter the sound.  (And the quality of the sound came and went)

My body swayed.  There were moments of being lost in the melody.  I believe I reached some in the audience.  And so I smile.

What thrilled me to bits was witnessing the flow of humanity stepping up … alone, naked.  Young, old, male and female, highly skilled and less so.  One young man played a fast piece brilliantly.  Afterwards I said that I was tempted to see him as a cello God, but I decided not to.  He was one member of a large cello family, we who cheer each other on.

Something else made me happy this morning.  I had brought a light for the music stand because the chapel lighting is pretty dim.  I knew immediately that I wanted all the players to use the lamp.  I knew it would be a contribution to many of them.  Voilà:

So my favourite memory was beyond the music.  Beyond the inspiring human performances.  Just simple kindness.  What a family deserves.

***

We were together

Applauding everyone

Feeling the glow