Mrs. Gunderson looked up at her with kindly green eyes. “Stage fright, dear?”
Mary’s breath rushed out. “A severe case.”
“You realize the choir sings up in the gallery behind the congregation.”
“Yes, ma’am.” That fact gave her hope.
For a long moment, the choir director studied her. “So why are you here?”
Only the truth would do. “Because I love to sing, and the only way to conquer a fear is to face it, right? And Jesus tells us we shouldn’t hide a candle under a bushel. Someday I hope to sing on Sundays.”
“Good.” Mrs. Gunderson played a scale. “Put your candle on a candlestick so it can give light to all. ‘Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.’”
Inside Mary, that truth wrestled with other biblical principles of humility and not putting oneself above others. There had to be a balance, but she hadn’t found it.
Mrs. Gunderson plunked out a chord and raised a sudden bright smile. “Welcome, Mary. Come and shine with us.”
“Yes, do come.” Claudia motioned her to the bookshelf. “Sit with me, and I’ll tell you what’s what.”
Mary followed her. “Thank you.”
Claudia pulled a leather-bound folder from the shelf. “Are you new to Park Street?”
“I’ve been coming here for four years.”
“Four years?” She gave her a blank look. “I’ve never noticed you.”
“I like to be invisible.”
One red eyebrow twitched. “You really don’t like to sing for an audience? Why ever not?”
Only Jim had heard the story, and she certainly didn’t want to tell it to a new acquaintance. “Why do youliketo sing for an audience?”
“Oh, I love it.” She batted her big blue eyes. “It’s the most exciting thing in the world. As I’m sure you know, I’m the main soloist.”
“Yes. You have a beautiful voice.”
Claudia headed for the front row in the soprano section and patted the seat next to her, a glint in her eye. “I suppose I don’t have to worry about competition from you.”
“Definitely not.” Mary sat. If only the ladies in the back row had invited her to join them instead.
“Good.” Another dimpled smile from Claudia. “I’m glad we can be friends.”
Mary smiled back, but cautiously. Friends? Only as long as she didn’t threaten Claudia’s position. Even though Mary had no intention of doing so, that was not a good foundation for a friendship.
“Everyone, please find your places.” Mrs. Gunderson tapped on a music stand with a baton, while an elderly gentleman sat at the piano. “First, we’ll sing ‘Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee,’ which will be the opening hymn on Sunday. Please stand.”
One of Mary’s favorites. With Claudia’s help, she found the music in the folder.
The piano played the opening chords, Mrs. Gunderson waved her baton, and everyone sang. Mary joined in, her voice soft so as not to stand out.
After the first verse, the choir director motioned for them to halt. “The beauty of a choir is all the voices rising together, mingling as one, in perfect harmony. But that beauty can only be realized when each of us sings fully. So sing out, all of you, in joy to our Lord.”
Mrs. Gunderson gave Mary a quick pointed look, then waved her baton. That speech was meant for Mary alone, but the director had been kind enough not to single her out.
They began again with the first verse, and Mary let her voice build in volume. Why not? Her voice was only one of many. She wasn’t putting herself on display or parading like a peacock.
Mrs. Gunderson gave her an approving look and made a fluttering, boosting motion in front of her chest.
