Sunday, April 24, 2011
But there we were, earlier this morning—my husband, son, and I, in the hills of Ithaca, New York. We were dressed for church but not certain where to go. It had been raining on and off. We sat together, deciding.
"I can't not go to church on Easter," I said. But then, "What I really think I need most is Easter music."
It happened by accident. Or it happened another way. We set out walking. We opened a door. We found our music—sweet, extraordinary. Do you know what twelve trombones can do when united in Easter song? When one finds them, serendipity, in the midst of a private rehearsal? When one is allowed to stay among them?
Twelve trombones answer a prayer.