It began with my still being engaged to marry. It ended with a newfound strength in singlehood and a magnificent male friend.
It started with being the oldest ballet major in state history, which required transcendence over cancer and injury. It ended with production of my first original children's ballet and being asked to teach at the school of a Bolshoi-trained artist.
In its embryonic stages, there were dreams of life in a less urban and more idyllic setting. At its conclusion, I am living that dream.
It commenced with a body of writing work that was directed at my peers. It evolved into works appreciated by far younger audiences.
At its origins, I did not know how to extricate myself from putting the lion's share of my labors into others' interests. Now I know better.
It initiated with undue concern about how my life looked on paper. It has culminated with my pulling my head out of my proverbial rear end and embracing what really matters.
At the onset, I had lost touch with far too many from my past. At its closure, I am magically surrounded by so many of them once again.
9/11, Katrina, Hirings and layoffs, sickness and recovery, loves lost and gained ... I remain ... most grateful, and looking forward to the next 10.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
The Most Powerful Christmas Song Ever Written
The year was 1962. The United States was in the midst of the Cuban Missile Crisis -- the great standoff between John F. Kennedy and Nikita ("We will bury you!") Khrushchev.
A French songwriter, living in New York, had been commissioned to write a Christmas-themed song, but he could not put pen to paper. He certainly had the talent. He had studied at the Strasbourg Conservatory and at the Conservatoire National de Paris.
However, the man was troubled. How could he write a joyful tune when the world was on the brink of potential annihilation? He had already been through enough war in his lifetime.
Duing World War II, the aspiring composer, previously destined for a brilliant career, was drafted into the German army after Hitler's Nazi forces overcame France.
While still in the German army and wearing the hated uniform, he became a member of the French underground. He collected information and warned French resistance fighters of attacks being planned by the Germans on his homeland.
That activity culminated in an episode that haunted him for the rest of his life. Intrepidly, he led a group of German soldiers into a trap where they were ambushed by French fighters in crossfire. The young man was also shot -- most likely on purpose -- to protect him from being found out.
The young man survived, but never forgot the image of all of those enemy soldiers collapsing and dying around him. He never talked about it publicly. He subsequently deserted the German army and lived with the French underground until the war was over.
In 1952, he moved to Manhattan, and it was on that memorable night, 10 years later, that he was having so much difficulty with his composition. He decided to clear his head by going out for a walk that evening through the streets of New York.
He saw something that made him pause. Two mothers had stopped by a storefront to chat with one another. They each were holding onto a baby stroller. The two infants in those strollers were smiling and wordlessly gesturing to one another
in a language wholly of their own.
What the songwriter witnessed was complete openness and love shared by two innocent beings. He raced home, inspired as never before, and in one sitting wrote the following as a plea for peace:
Said the night wind to the little lamb
Do you see what I see?
'Way up in the sky, little lamb
Do you see what I see?
A star, a star
Dancing in the night
With a tail as big as a kite
With a tail as big as a kite
Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
Ringing thru the sky, shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
A song, a song
High above the tree
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea
Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king
Do you know what I know?
In your palace warm, mighty king
Do you know what I know?
A Child, a Child
Shivers in the cold
Let us bring Him silver and gold
Let us bring Him silver and gold
Said the king to the people ev'rywhere
Listen to what I say!
Pray for peace, people ev'rywhere
Listen to what I say!
The Child, the Child
Sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light
Postscript: Although Bing Crosby's version of the carol brought it to national attention and sold more copies that that of anyone else, the composer -- the late Noel Regney -- most appreciated the version recorded by Robert Goulet, with that artist's impassioned delivery of the line, "Pray for peace, people ev'rywhere!"
A French songwriter, living in New York, had been commissioned to write a Christmas-themed song, but he could not put pen to paper. He certainly had the talent. He had studied at the Strasbourg Conservatory and at the Conservatoire National de Paris.
However, the man was troubled. How could he write a joyful tune when the world was on the brink of potential annihilation? He had already been through enough war in his lifetime.
Duing World War II, the aspiring composer, previously destined for a brilliant career, was drafted into the German army after Hitler's Nazi forces overcame France.
While still in the German army and wearing the hated uniform, he became a member of the French underground. He collected information and warned French resistance fighters of attacks being planned by the Germans on his homeland.
That activity culminated in an episode that haunted him for the rest of his life. Intrepidly, he led a group of German soldiers into a trap where they were ambushed by French fighters in crossfire. The young man was also shot -- most likely on purpose -- to protect him from being found out.
The young man survived, but never forgot the image of all of those enemy soldiers collapsing and dying around him. He never talked about it publicly. He subsequently deserted the German army and lived with the French underground until the war was over.
In 1952, he moved to Manhattan, and it was on that memorable night, 10 years later, that he was having so much difficulty with his composition. He decided to clear his head by going out for a walk that evening through the streets of New York.
He saw something that made him pause. Two mothers had stopped by a storefront to chat with one another. They each were holding onto a baby stroller. The two infants in those strollers were smiling and wordlessly gesturing to one another
in a language wholly of their own.
What the songwriter witnessed was complete openness and love shared by two innocent beings. He raced home, inspired as never before, and in one sitting wrote the following as a plea for peace:
Said the night wind to the little lamb
Do you see what I see?
'Way up in the sky, little lamb
Do you see what I see?
A star, a star
Dancing in the night
With a tail as big as a kite
With a tail as big as a kite
Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
Ringing thru the sky, shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
A song, a song
High above the tree
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea
Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king
Do you know what I know?
In your palace warm, mighty king
Do you know what I know?
A Child, a Child
Shivers in the cold
Let us bring Him silver and gold
Let us bring Him silver and gold
Said the king to the people ev'rywhere
Listen to what I say!
Pray for peace, people ev'rywhere
Listen to what I say!
The Child, the Child
Sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light
Postscript: Although Bing Crosby's version of the carol brought it to national attention and sold more copies that that of anyone else, the composer -- the late Noel Regney -- most appreciated the version recorded by Robert Goulet, with that artist's impassioned delivery of the line, "Pray for peace, people ev'rywhere!"
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