It's that time again, the month of lasts.
Last band banquet - check
last academic banquet - check
last band concert - check
last AP test - check
last PROM, next weekend.
Yesterday Jacob's class took their last group graduation picture before Baccalaureate. Here's a shot of our senior as he headed out the door. Another thing to check off of our list. It's a nice event, actually, that prayer service for the seniors. Optional, of course, but we decided to attend. Several alumni from my elementary school were in leadership roles: the welcome, the invocation, the song. The song, that's what stuck with me.
Actually not the song, so much, as the singer, a girl named Ariana whom I vividly remember as a third grader, mostly from my knitting club. It was our first year, ten years ago, and she was so happy and proud to bring her grandmother to mentor. It's funny the things that you remember about people. Her grandmother knits continental style and I hadn't seen that before. Ariana learned easily and knit some beautiful patches for that first quilt we ever made. Anyway, I've only seen her one other time since third grade, when she was a freshman and worked on a project in Spanish class with our daughter.
Yesterday, she was on the agenda to sing the song Every Heart Has A Story To Tell by Sara Haze. She walked gracefully up the stairs and onto the stage and told us that this song is about lessons learned. Then she went on to say that she learned a lesson just today, to always bring a second CD in case the one you have doesn't want to cooperate with the equipment. She added that she'd be singing it for us a cappella today, but that next time she'd bring a spare. And then this courageous, resilient, poised young woman, all alone on stage in a crowded auditorium, sang this beautifully haunting ballad.
From her heart.
I didn't have my flip cam, but there's a You Tube clip of the song; just imagine a voice every bit as mesmerizing but without the accompaniment.
My heart is so happy about kids like Ariana in the Class of 2013.