I was listening to the incomparable music of the Collinsville Chorale tonight, but I confess my eyes were riveted on one person: my lovely wife. I looked up there and saw her and looked around and I thought: How on earth did I end up with the most beautiful women up there? And she was. And then she stepped forward to sing - and it was the voice of an angel, the way it always is. "How can I keep from singing?" - that old Shaker piece set to a John Leavitt tune. It was fabulous. But so also was the guest soloist - a black woman who brought down the house with the choir doing background on "I believe." Sigh. A wonderful evening of music indeed, and one all the sweeter for Cindi's beautiful face and voice.
You're just an old romantic and a big softie at heart.
ReplyDeleteI like that in a pastor.
Youch! I've been nailed. Tis true. And I also like to smell flowers. How sad is that? ;)
ReplyDeleteA German (who now teaches at Fort Wayne Seminary) saw me step off the path to smell the flowers at St. Louis sem when we were both doing graduate work there. He said: "Ha! A romantic. I should have known." I smiled and owned up to it. Yes, damn it all, I LIKE Wordsworth. "To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that often lie too deep for words." Or better yet: "when all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, fluttering and dancing in the breeze."