I am back from Madison safe and sound – quite a relief since I was driving through a nasty snowstorm for most of the way. (The trip, which usually takes two hours,  took three and a half.)  And more important than that,  I am relieved to have left behind the acute frustration that I was feeling last night as I practiced for today’s recital.  Part of it was that I drove to Madison this morning with my Carthage colleague and friend Amy Haines,  who was a patient and sympathetic listener to my complaints – which I so appreciated.  And once I got to Madison and started meeting each of these nine young singers for whom I was playing,  my frustration evaporated almost immediately.  And when it was all done, I felt like the Belle of the Ball with so many teachers who were in the audience coming up afterwards to thank me and compliment me for my work.

But none of that is what most decisively reversed my attitude.  Rather, that came halfway through the afternoon when I practiced with the ninth and final singer for whom I played today.   He was one of the youngest singers on the recital, and had quite a long and busy day himself since he was busy all morning with his high school’s solo and ensemble competition – so I was impressed with his energy and good spirits.  I was also surprised when he walked into the practice room on crutches.    I don’t remember what comment I made about that – maybe “what’s this all about?” as I pointed to the crutches –  and without any hesitancy he said that he was on crutches because his prosthesis was giving him some trouble and he needed the crutches when he had to walk any significant distance.   And as he came over to the piano and set the crutches against the wall behind him,  I couldn’t help but notice that yes, indeed,  this high school junior had a prosthetic leg.  I have no idea of the story behind that ( I am such a snoop and was mightily tempted to ask,  but refrained) – all I know is that this young man is a fine singer, exceptional musician, and nice guy.  Most striking of all, he sings with such a sense of joy, and this despite being dealt a blow that no one his age should have to endure.   And meeting him and experiencing both his beautiful singing and mature graciousness was all it took to wash my frustrations and resentments away.

Truth be told,  I wanted to hug the guy – and part of me also wanted to cry . . .   but I did neither.  Instead,  I played my heart out for him as he seemed to sing his heart out for me – and we managed to make some beautiful music together.  And in a day that turned out to be memorable in many ways, it is my encounter with this young man that really made everything worth it.