tale of two singers

here's the tale of two singers, J and K. actually two teenage schoolgirls who both have beautiful voices, at least one of whom aspires to become a singer. both are pretty, popular, and good students. J is petite and a little reserved, K is tall and confident. both went to state singing competition, J as part of a trio, K as a soloist. a 1-1/2 hour drive followed by twenty minutes standing in a stuffy hallway. then that tense few minutes in a performance room with a few onlookers holding their breath as the judge makes marks and jots notes on a crit sheet, while the singers sing, silently praying that they don't screw up. J's trio went first and sang All the Pretty Little Horses. the judge would listen, look down and make a note, look back up, again and again. all three sang well, but J's voice had that special quality that makes you crave to hear it some more. when they finished, the judged briefly thanked them and dismissed them, then returned his attention to finishing the critique. so back to the stuffy hallway to wait a few more minutes for K's turn, the very last performance of the day.

a few minutes before her time, K's judge came by and introduced himself to her, perhaps to put her at ease. he asked her if she was ready, and she responded with an 'i guess so', alluding to the fact that when they arrived there were not any practice rooms available, so none of them were ever able to warm up. she never said as much to the judge, but she would be performing cold; she would not be at her best. he told her that he would go on into the room and get set up, and she could come in and start as soon as she was ready. after a quick gut check, she said, 'okay, let's go.' the small group followed her in and found chairs. her teacher sat down at the piano to accompany her. K took her place beside the piano, facing the judge, and announced that she would be performing the Italian aria Amorosi Miei Giorni by Stephano Donaudy.

K's soprano often surprises people, because there's good, and then there's good. it must have surprised the judge too, because he looked up, laid the pencil down, and leaned back in his chair. he never looked down at the crit, he just watched her and listened, and appreciated her performance. there are scores given, but he had already given her the highest possible compliment. when she was done, after a moment he said, 'yours is the best voice i've heard all day, and it came right here at the end.' he talked to her some more, gave her some pointers, expressed hope that she had plans to use her talent, asked her a few questions.

then we left to go celebrate with a semi-expensive dinner. all the girls passed the time chatting and drawing on the paper table cloth. it was there in the restaurant, as we all crowded around the table, that i began to sense...i don't know, whatever you get when you feel sympathy, admiration and sadness, and a wish that somehow i could help. K was on the right, happy, confident, assured of a perfect score. J was on the left. counting her money, she had only 4 dollars. she declined offers to pay for her meal; instead she ordered just a Dr. Pepper. i knew that she wouldn't starve for missing one meal, but i also knew what it felt like to resist the kindness of strangers. i guess at that moment, i wished that i could have been more than a stranger. i felt sure that J will have better days, but on that day, i wished she could have had a father tell her that he was proud of her. but she didn't. he committed suicide three years ago. no matter how much she accomplishes in her life, she will never get to hear him say how proud he is of her. no matter how beautiful she is, her eyes will always have that sadness there that you can't quite recognize unless you know why it's there. i don't know if she will ever really heal, ever shake the effects of losing her father in such a tragic way. it will always be part of her. even on her really great days, when she gets to hear a judge say that her voice is the most beautiful he's heard all day, pain will still be part of her, and she will still never hear praise from the man that matters to her the most.

so that's the lesson for me to learn. i didn't know J's father, don't what it was about his life that made it unbearable to go on. all i know is, for better or for worse, J needed him, and now she must go on without him. for better or for worse, no matter how far i fall short of what i need to be, someone needs me, too. at some point, i have to stop tearing down and throwing away. i have to accept that what i have built may be crap, maybe be imperfect as all hell, but it's better than nothing, and it's a start, even if a slow one.