Easter Prayer

Sunday, April 24, 2011

I could tell you the long version of this story, but it is late, and we have driven through lightning and rainbows, past accidents and frightened deer.  So I will say only that in all my many years on this earth I have never lived an Easter day without spending part of it in church.  I was raised that way, and I have tried to raise my son that way.

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.

2 comments:

Melissa Sarno said...

Ithaca is a magical place like that :-)

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