Philip is a gentle, soft-spoken man, about 89 years old. He was born in England, and as a child he was evacuated to the countryside twice with his sister, to escape the bombing in London. Philip was a chorister, and he tells me that he sang in St. Paul’s Cathedral. Until the last few years he has always sung in choirs.
We had an entertainer today, an older man who sang and played the guitar very well. We enjoyed the well-known older songs, and some of us hummed or sang along. I could see Philip standing nearby, leaning on his cane, trembling from Parkinsons. His face was full of yearning.
As the concert was drawing to a close, Philip shyly approached the entertainer and asked if he could do a song. The mike was adjusted and with the guitar accompanying him he sang “Unchained Melody”. He sang wonderfully, and his face reflected absolute joy.
It was one of those times when the universe forgets to breathe – I found myself in tears, not from sadness, but from the pure beauty of the moment.
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