Yeah, sorry this blog has sucked so much lately. I can’t seem to string together a coherent thought these days. I’m so distracted that I can’t complete a single purple shoes are never a good idea because they’ll clash with your pants.
On Monday Matilda had her very first-ever, one-of-a-kind, limited-engagement, once-in-a-lifetime vocal recital for your Youth Vocals class. Being as her arts school is a very, very, very Christian school (no I don’t burst into flames when I walk through the doors, thank you very much. They’ve forgotten all about the line of Jesus action figures I proposed . . . though I still contend the stigmata that appear with warm water was a brilliant idea . . .) all of the songs were about Jesus. And one song, which Matilda has been singing for months on end, is insanely bloody. I mean, literally, if Tarintino directed Jesus’ death on Calvary, this would be the perfect theme song.
That being said . . . Matilda did a fantastic job. She was poised, confident and . . . good. After a few months of training, she’s learned such control of her instrument. I’m very proud of her.
The best moment, however, was when they were signing the bloody God song (can’t remember the title), each of the girls took a section of a verse and sang solo. As fate would have it, Matilda’s was in Spanish.
When I noticed them working their way down to her I began to get nervous. I couldn’t help it. I could tell she wasn’t nervous, but every terrible thought from my childhood came flooding back.
What if her voice gives out? What if she sucks? What if everyone laughs? What if she falls down? What if she starts singing the wrong song? What if everyone knows that I’m not a fundamentalist Christian? I had a fever, I couldn’t possibly hold my own in a discussion with 50 fundies as to why I’m not one of them.
But when her time came, this clear, sweet voice rang out and sang beautiful Spanish about the blood running down the street from Calvary.
I couldn’t help it, but I had a huge grin on my face. I was so immensely proud of everything that she had accomplished this year that I couldn’t contain it. Lucky for those other kids, I didn’t stand up and start cheering at that exact moment.
But I didn’t need to. Because as soon as she finished her part, Matilda looked at me smiling at her and she too broke out into the widest smile I’ve ever seen her give.
And that made it all worth it. Even the blood and the funny looks I get from the fundie parents when my only response to “What’s you’re favorite verse in the Bible” is, “John 3:16, of course.”
But that may be my rainbow wig . . .
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