As I have read this thread, I have been touched and brought to tears by all the stories and by how people have poured out their hearts.

Why do I sing? Because I can't hold back the song. I sing because music is life itself and because it helps me to get through life. Music is one of the greatest gifts that I have found in life and it has been such a wonderful blessing that I have such a talent for it. Without it, I truly do not know where I would be. I was taken away from my parents when I was 5 because the school administraters thought that I was being abused. Before finally being returned home, I spent several months in a government institution and then several more in a foster home. By that time, I had become noisy and demanding and my fostor parents didn't like me. I had only two things to hold on to and that was my stuffed dog and my music. I used to hum little songs that I made up to myself all the time. Wherever I was, I was always singing. For me, singing frees the soul. It is a way to "slip the surly bonds of earth and touch the face of God." I know that sounds cheesy but that it how it is for me. When I sing, I can feel something deep vibrating through my whole body, I can feel my soul breaking free of the pain and despair of this world.

Another thing I love about singing is how it touchs people. When I was little, I went caroling with my horseback riding instructor through her neighborhood, riding her horses. We would run up to the house, ring the doorbell like mad, and run back to the group. Often the owner would come out ready to yell at whoever was playing with their doorbell and instead be greeted with a mass of singing children. During those two Christmases, I saw so many hearts melted by the simple melodies of Christmas. Those caroling outing are some of the brightest among my holiday memories. Last year, I was finally able to convince my mom and my sister to go caroling with me and the response was awesome! This year I am organizing a neighborhood-wide carol in memory of my neighbor who died just last month. Bob loved Christmas. I think it was his favorite time of year and he made the rest of the neighborhood love it with him. I think he would love the fact that the neighborhood is coming together at his favorite time.

And it's not just Christmas songs that I have seen touch people. Last spring I had a history class that I had to do a prestentation for. Being part Irish, I decided to do the presentation on Irish history in the 1800s. I also decided that the best way to present Irish history was the way that the Irish do: through song. One of the songs I picked was "Kilkelly," a beautiful heart-wrenching song about a father writing to his son who has emmigrated to America. The letters span 32 years and at the end of each one the father asks when his son will come home. In the end, the father dies without seeing his son. I gave the presentation to my mom and when I finished that song, she was crying. What I had forgotten was that the aniversity of her father's death was coming up. That song had reminded her of her dad. When I sang that song in the class, I watched as this one lady in the front row started crying. She was an adult student taking night classes. When I talked to her after the class, she told me that she had emmigrated from Korea and left her parents behind. That song had reminded her of them.

That is the power of music, to make people laugh, to make people cry, to meet them right where they are and sing out the words that their hearts are dying to say. To allow the singer to forget himself in the moment and release his soul to fly with the song.

That is why I sing.

God bless, Rebecca