a sweet story

The other day, I was called to play for an evening funeral service at St. Lawrence. I was told the family could not afford to pay any musicians. Of course, I said yes. I've always felt pro bono work was important to do under this kind of circumstance. And, too, it's a corporal work of mercy to bury the dead and a spiritual work of mercy to pray for the dead which, to me, seemed like a more important issue. (I like doing works of mercy.) The secretary wondered if I knew of a cantor who might be available.

I thought of Frances, who is 12 years old and has been cantoring weekend masses for a year. I talked with her mother when I called. Her mother told me she was saying yes for Frances who was in school at the time. (She joked that Frances could smack her afterward!) Frances called me later and we agreed to meet and practice at least the one hymn she didn't know. We practiced that night for about a half hour. She easily learned the hymn and we went over the other hymns she would be singing, too.

As we were walking out of church, I thanked her for doing this. She said a girl friend had asked her to go to a dance at another school the night of the funeral and she'd decided that she'd rather sing for a funeral (her first time singing for one) because someone had died and it was a big deal to sing for someone's funeral. I could tell she was deeply touched to be asked to sing for it and that it meant something to her to honor the life of a person, even someone she didn't know.

I had a feeling the Holy Spirit was involved in all this. When I told the brother of the deceased that Frances would be singing, he was so happy. He said that, when he'd told his brothers and sisters that a young girl might be singing, they had gotten all excited because their sister had loved her nieces and nephews so much and they knew that she would have loved that Frances would sing for her funeral.

When we arrived at the church, people were coming up to Frances, saying they'd heard about her beautiful singing. (Hmmm...People must have really believed me when I had told them about her!) Father was very gracious and welcoming to her, explaining the order of the service, and joking a bit with her.

Frances sang her little heart out. It was utterly exquisite and she did everything she was asked to do, even traversing across the sanctuary, stopping to bow before the altar, to the ambo where she sang the Psalm. She told me she does it when she sings for her school's masses so it didn't seem to phase her.

Afterward, I asked her if she'd been nervous (making sure to tell her that she hadn't sounded nervous at all). She said, no, but she'd had a couple moments, first when she started to sing, seeing all the eyes looking at her, and then when she was singing and everyone was crying. She said it was an odd thing to be the only one not crying.

As we were walking to my car and talking about how it had gone, she asked what we were going to do next. Was I going to take her home? It seemed as though she was really asking if we could spend more time together in the excitement of having done something she'd never done before. I asked her if she wanted to go for supper or ice cream. She said, "Oh, ice cream!" As I started backing out of the parking spot, I noticed in my rear view mirror a woman running toward the car. She caught up to us and said she hadn't noticed that we'd left and wanted to give us something. She handed us 2 envelopes. She thanked us for the beautiful music and left. We ripped open our envelopes and each of us found $50 cash. Frances got all excited and I got all excited, too, reveling in her excitement! After a minute, she said something about how we hadn't read our notes, that it was rude that we didn't. I laughed and said she was right and we read the kind expressions of gratitude from the family.

We had a very nice time, over ice cream, telling one another about different things in our lives. I cautioned her to never ever lose her generosity of spirit because, when she becomes a professional, there will be times in her life when people will need her to sing for a Mass and she must respond generously and without thought of getting paid. She agreed. For me, it was a sacred time, spent in the presence of a child of great faith. It was a gift from God!

A few months ago, I happened to go to daily Mass at the parish where Frances attends school. I noticed that it was the children's weekly Mass and that Frances would be cantoring. I was utterly amazed when Frances started singing, leading the congregation, without accompaniment. It was just Frances' pure, sweet voice, strong and without fear. It was something I will never forget! She told me afterward that the accompanist was sick that day and so she just sang. I told her that I had wished that I'd known...and that she'd known...I was going to be there because I would have accompanied her but, then, as I was listening to her singing, I realized it wouldn't have been nearly as beautiful. Her willingness to share her gift like that and to be able to experience it was a moment of sheer beauty.

Just think if her parents had been of the ilk to abort her. How cold the world would have been without her compassion, her singing, her gentle caring for strangers! And, then, we must think about all the people who have NOT been allowed to live. Don't you wonder about the people and their talents that all of us are missing right now? I do. I can't help it. This particular effect of abortion is so devastating, we cannot even comprehend it.

However, these thoughts do not negate the joy that is brought to us whenever we encounter someone like Frances. And, we can have hope for the future of our world whenever we do. It is a blessing for me to know Frances!