The performance is over, they all bow down and stand beaming with happiness. Their eyes are shinning and the entire hall is still resonating with their voices, this time mixed with the applause. They pose like little children – obedient, happy and enthralled. Warm with a natural glow and dynamic, they bow again along with Madame Margret.
Like it was their first performance, all of them looked nervous and excited, merged with the colours of a painting of a child thrilled living life. Like a child!
Can you see Pamela? She has rehearsed a lot and wants to give her best; I am sure she wants to impress Madame Margret. I agree that she is dedicated but I feel Susan is a better singer, only if she shows some more confidence. Oh! Just look at Thomas, yawning…gosh…Madame Margret almost saw him…he is quick to pretend he is just practicing his baritone voice. You know what, once Georgia wasn’t able to get her voice to the right scale and she started crying…Madame Margret then calmed her and helped her, she is really good, she knows how to handle everyone in the Choir. Shshsh! It is going to start.
Just notice one thing throughout the performance, they all, everyone in the Choir including Madame Margret will light up during the performance. No! Not the stage lights…they themselves will. Their expressions and their eyes and their voice will talk about all the music in the world. How beautiful is that! See…it has started, they are lighting up, girls are going to blush red and boys will look golden; their eyes sing the most and the energy that they exuberate will make you…will make you…. Shshsh! Oh Sorry!
Hmm…hmm. I love Patrick, can’t look at anyone else but him. How lively! Last time he told me that while practicing he was reminded of his childhood, how his mother baked cookies for him and his sisters; he used to play all day long in the winter sun and return only in the evenings, to delight himself with warm milk and cookies. He said that he felt the crispiness of the cookie disappearing into milky moistness while singing that day. We returned and ate cookies with milk for dinner. I loved it, though Patrick said it is not even near to what his mother baked for all of them.
You call him Patrick…?
Yes, earlier I used to call him Grandpa Patrick then Grandpa Patricy…but now just Patrick. He loves it this way. And I love him. He is also my best friend. He is just like a child.