There have been a number of commentaries recently about the power of music.  Usually it’s about big occasions like a “come and sing Messiah”  in a huge venue like the Opera House.  But of course music does not have to be big and brassy to move listeners.  Think of the Schubert Mass we are singing at the moment – small scale and personal yet still very moving in its own way.

Speaking of which, our Choir Secretary, Naomi, writes:

Every Friday afternoon I work as a volunteer at Bear Cottage.  Most of you would know what ‘Bear Cottage’ is.  For those who don’t – it is a hospice for children with limited life expectancy.  It is a wonderful, amazing place.  Volunteers do a variety of tasks – folding laundry, chopping vegetables, stacking dishes, play with siblings, chat with parents or grandparents, perform administrative tasks.  But the prime task is to interact with sick children; to give them company and support.  And that is the task that I find the most difficult.   Over time I have learnt to cope with the proximity of seriously, sometimes terminally sick children but what I still find so difficult is to interact with a person when there is no response at all.  I feel lost when I don’t get a sense that a child is aware that I am there beside him.

 But the other day, perhaps for the first time ever, I actually left Bear Cottage feeling that I did something useful; that I made a difference to a child.  Jack (not his real name) was on the floor, wriggling. He can’t talk, walk or control his movements.  He just lay there and wriggled.  I sat beside him on the floor; he was watching TV, or more correctly, his face was turned towards the TV.  I can’t say whether he was watching or taking anything in.  No expression at all.  I asked him whether he wanted me to read him a story.  No response.  None expected.  But I read all the same and indeed got no response.  He shifted his head from me to the TV – I didn’t know whether he was aware that I was there.  But then I wondered: how would react to my singing?  I started singing – some Hebrew melodies, something from ‘The Sound of Music, the last chorale of the ‘St John Passion’ – a random selection of songs. To my surprise our interaction changed immediately.  He looked at me, engaged my gaze and smiled.  He was obviously not only listening but also enjoying it.  There was real pleasure in his face.  He can’t ask for more but when I stopped, I had a feeling that he would have wanted to.  And the most amazing thing is that after a while of singing, I started reading again, and Jack seemed more responsive to the story I was reading.  He actually seemed engaged.

The power of music!

Thank you, Naomi, for sharing with us what must have been a very special moment.