Choir

I liked high school much better than junior high, though I still would rather have been up at the cabin than go to either one.

I took choir in junior high, and again during my sophomore and junior years of high school.  It was fun, and a good experience, although I was never more than a mediocre vocalist.  I could match my voice to the singers around me, usually, but if I had to sing by myself I wavered and got off key. 

Our teachers tried to choose music we would enjoy singing, and most of the time they succeeded.  My high school choir teacher, Mr. Gibbons, also worked at making our performances entertaining.

One Christmas we sang at a retirement village as well as at our usual school programs.

"Gale," he said in class on an early December morning, "Would you try singing the solo part in this song?"

I looked up in surprise.  Me?  I'd never sung a solo in any of our music, and I sure didn't want to try now.

"I think your voice has just the right sweetness and tone for this piece," Mr. Gibbons continued.  "Give it a try, OK?"

I gulped and looked at the sheet music again.  "OK," I stammered, "but it won't be very good," I qualified in my head.

"Lu lee lu la, thou little tiny child, bye bye, lu lee lu lay,"  I quavered softly, trying to stay on tune with the piano.    "Thou little tiny child, bye bye, lu lee lu lay."

"A little louder," Mr. Gibbons encouraged, and I started over.  We were singing the Coventry Carol, an old English Christmas carol, and it was quite lovely, but I didn't see how I could sing it by myself in front of people. 

Mr. Gibbons had everyone join in to sing the second verse, "Oh sisters two, how may we do for to preserve this day.  This poor youngling for whom we do sing, bye bye lu lee lu lay."  That was much better, and it really was a pretty song, but I sure hated singing the first part by myself.  I don't know, maybe my quavering, hesitant, soft voice was exactly the sound he was looking for to make the song authentic, but I always figured Mr. Gibbons gave me the part just to be nice and help build my confidence.  It didn't work.

Later that year he taught us a modern song made popular by The Carpenters.  They were two of my favorite singers, and the song was Close to You.

Why do birds suddenly appear, ev'ry time you are near?
Just like me, they long to be close to you.
Why do stars fall down from the sky, ev'ry time you walk by?
Just like me, they long to be close to you.

On the day that you were born the angels got together.
And decided to create a dream come true.
So, they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold,
And star-light in your eyes of blue.
That is why all the girls in town follow you all around.
Just like me, they long to be close to you...

On the day that you were born the angels got together.
And decided to create a dream come true.
So, they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold,
And star-light in your eyes of blue.
That is why all the girls in town follow you all around.
Just like me, they long to be close to you...
Just like me, they long to be close to you...

I really enjoyed learning this song, and singing it, until we got ready to perform it in a concert.  Then Mr. Gibbons suggested that we each go down into the audience, choose a young man, bring him back up onto the stage with us, and sing the song to him.  He had to be kidding!  I was so embarrassed!  Most of the other girls in my choir had boyfriends, or at least boy friends they could choose, but who would I get?  Who would want to come up on  stage with me while I sang such a dumb song to them?  I was sure I would mortally embarrass anyone I chose, and I really, really, really did not want to do it!

There wasn't anything I could do about it, though.  On the night of our first performance I stood on stage, singing our other songs, looking hopelessly out into the audience trying to find someone I could pick on.  It was hard to see with the lights shining in my eyes, and I soon realized that even if I found someone I thought might be willing to come up on stage, one of the other girls would likely pick him before I got to him anyway.  I was in an awful dilemma.  Finally I decided there was nothing I could do but trust in fate.  Hopefully there would be someone left for me to get and he would come quietly.

We finished the other songs, the pianist began playing the interlude that signaled the time for us to get our guys, and all the girls began streaming off the stage and out into the audience.  I stumbled along with them, my face scarlet, my eyes clouded, my mind numb. 

I walked into the crowd of people, saw a young man sitting in a chair, took his hand and asked, "Will you come with me?"  He had no idea what was going on, but obviously he wasn't the only one being picked on so he came willingly enough.  Thank goodness!  We trooped back up onto the stage, I guided him to the spot where we were supposed to stand, and then I began singing. 

The poor boys!  They hadn't known we were going to sing that song.  What could they do?  I tried not to look in the young man's eyes I was singing to, and it was all a blur to me anyway, but I was sure glad to finish that song and watch all the boys hurry off the stage and back to their seats.  Uhhhhggggg!  That was painful!

You know, to this day I can't remember what that young man looked like.  I have no idea who he was, if he was tall or short, dark or fair, cute or plain.  He was just a guy, the first one I could capture, and he was nice enough to let me sing to him without making a scene.  But I will be forever grateful to him, whoever he was, for being so nice.