I love beautiful music. I love beautiful children – of all ages. I’ve been blessed to have grown up in a house with parents who played musical instruments and sang. They were both in a movie [a musical] and my mom sang in a trio with her sisters when she was growing up. I’ve had the amazing opportunity to create music and to sing it.
Mostly, I appreciate being able to hear it. To feel it. To be moved by it.
I see what it does for other people, and that makes me happy in my heart.
I remember occasions when I’ve been speaking. On a college campus, at a convention center, or in a church or other religious location. Here’s the interesting thing: When I start to sing, the feeling in the room changes. When I’ve begun a hymn, for instance, with lyrics that Christians are so familiar with – like…
O Lord, my God, when I in awesome wonder consider all the worlds Thy hands have made….
People react. They lean forward in their seats, and their sense of being settles. I see random people, who aren’t part of the class or group, stop and poke their head in to listen. Participants actually- I see this reaction happening inside them – are feeling the music. As if they remember sacred, touching moments. They hear. They feel. It’s moving and beautiful.
There are hymns that bring me to tears every single time I hear them. They’re connected to my mom or dad, to my grandparents, to a specific memory or a whole file of them. Dear to my heart in quiet, profound ways. Giving me strength, increasing faith, giving me hope. I wont even ‘go there’ now – it would take too many words and I’m trying not to write a novel. 🙂
Then there’s another whole amazing aspect of music – it’s MUSIC AND CHILDREN.
What is more precious than hearing a little one sing? Or a group of children participating in pure musical joy, in ways only they can share? I think our Father in Heaven smiles extra big smiles when the little ones sing. Or play an instrument – whether they’re a prodigy, proficient in playing any instrument – or learning to ‘play’ the recorder. [I realize this one may require much more patience on the part of the listener.] It’s a fascinating heavenly, delightful, joyful part of life. One that builds character, order, and goodness.
From the first time I sat at the piano with my mom, learning to play a simple duet with her, I was hooked. Back then, there were no studies to show how important music is. We just knew it. We felt it.
We rolled with it, baby.
Here’s the thing: Music is magical. Regardless of their skill level, children make beautiful music. Even more amazing is this: Music may help make beautiful children.It can be classical, religious, children’s music, or a currently popular pop song — kids seem to
Come On, Get Happy!
In a world with dark influences at work, television blaring standards that- frankly- are offensive to adults [at least, to this adult] and certainly shouldn’t be viewed by children, where decency still lives and breathes but doesn’t get the attention it used to…. good music can do wonders in building goodness in our little ones.
There are all kinds of studies and data. But I don’t want to even ‘go there’. Sometimes, it’s nice to simply celebrate goodness, and qualify it by experiences we have [and create.]
Here are a couple of beautiful quotations I agree with:
Music is a discipline, and a mistress of order and good manners, she makes the people milder and gentler, more moral and more reasonable.
– Martin Luther King
A song will outlive all sermons in the memory.
My mom got cancer when I was fifteen. She went through tremendous difficulties and battled for health – every moment she could grab. Very early on, she told me that she wanted the song Bridge Over Troubled Water played at her funeral. I agreed, but couldn’t – for the life of me – figure out why she’d want that mainstream song included with several of her favorite hymns.
Many years later, when we finally lost her, we played that song according to her instruction. It was then… THEN…that I understood the choice. Why had I not understood, all these years? The tears streamed down my face as the Spirit taught me yet another layer of mom’s love. Many times, I have felt as though she was right with me – sailing right behind – helping to ease my mind, since she is no longer here to hug me or give me tender advice and loving counsel in the flesh. It’s beautiful.
She taught me a sermon, through music. And I didn’t even know it for so many years… A beautiful thing. A mom’s love and a beautiful, tender song.
I once saw a graduation ceremony of adults with severe disabilities. At one point, they rose to sing a song together. It was “I Am A Child of God.” Not a single one of them could carry a tune. They wandered in music and rhythm all over the place. It was heavenly.
I was there. I can tell you what we seemed to collectively feel. I saw the weeping and the felt the powerful overwhelming love that filled the hall. It was the most precious song I’d ever heard. They were beautiful.
I’ve decided. People singing together, in good ways, is like Christmas every day. Because of the sheer joy of it.
We’re all God’s children. There are lots of things we can do in any given day. And there are influencers that affect our children and grandchildren. And us. Some in good ways. Some in very dreary, dark, and potentially harmful ways.
We need the beauty of music. A lullabye, a favorite song from youth, a perfect hymn for bringing peace, a tune that helps us put on a happy face. Music is joy to the ears and to the heart. Like sunshine inside.
Ya know what I hope? I hope we make room for music. I hope we celebrate every drop of it, and encourage our loved ones to understand the gift and blessing of it.
Sing to a child. Help him or her learn the joy of pounding of an upside-down pot, or tooting away on a recorder. Enjoy their singing. Bless their lives by adding more musical influence. It will help them. And it will help us. Every day, we can have an ode to joy.
Because we’re all children at heart. And we’re all beautiful. Remember….
Everybody’s beautiful in their own way!
Yep. Beautiful music and beautiful children go together. That’s a good thing.
And goodness matters.