Music in My Heart: My Journey with Melody

By Tuesday evening, I’m sitting on a church bench, wearing pink hair ribbons, just like Melody. Her dress has pink flowers on it, and the one Lila loaned me is solid pink. But the folds of my skirt are gathered with a bow at the waist, just like Melody’s. Melody told me that her friend, Sharon, and her do Matching Mondays at school. So today, we’ll do a Matching Tuesday.

The youth choir is just finishing the first half of their performance. I told Melody that I was too nervous about our song together to sing with the choir, so I don’t have to do perform with them. Miss Dorothy stands at the microphone and thanks the Second Baptist Youth Choir for visiting us in Detroit. She claps, and the congregation joins in. But then she says that we have two more performers for a special request.

My knees wobble as I follow Melody to the front of the church. I sit on the piano bench, and she steps up to the microphone. Melody’s voice shakes as she introduces us, but she doesn’t let her nerves stop her from doing what’s right. Melody explains that there’s a performance hall on 12th Street that some of us might know. Most of the congregation nods their heads, and several people clap. Melody continues and says that the city is supposed to start tearing it down this week.

Low murmurs ripple through the congregation. Melody continues and says that the owners of the hall, Al and Josephine Moore, lost everything. They lost their home, their business, and even their piano. They have to start all over. And so, we want to raise money to buy a new piano so they can keep playing music. She asks if they will help us. Applause spreads like a wave across the congregation. Melody grins and says we’re going to play a song that reminds us all that we’re not alone. Then, we’ll pass the collection plates, in case anyone would like to donate money for the new piano. Melody bows head as there’s more cheers and claps. And then it’s time to begin.

My heart races as I play the first few notes to the song, almost as if I’m playing in front of judges at a piano recital. But there’s something different. I am not alone, because Melody is right next to me. There’s something else, too. My heart feels so full, it almost hurts. Tonight, I’m definitely playing “with passion,” as Ms. Stricker would say. How could I not? Melody and I are performing for something that matters.

Melody’s voice rises to meet the rafters. Wow. She sounds even better than she did a Big Momma’s. And she doesn’t look scared anymore.

As she sings, people in the audience join in, raising their hands and their voices upward. I feel like I’m right back at the performance hall in the midst of a crowd that has moved by the music. As Melody sings the last few words, someone nudges me. It’s Miss Dorothy, holding out a wooden collection plate. She says to pass the plates while the gorgeous music is still ringing in their ears.

Melody takes a plate, too, and we stand on opposite ends of the benches, passing the plates back-and-forth along the rows of people. Every time the plate comes back to me, I try not to count how much money is in it. Even if there’s not enough for a new piano, I hope there’s enough to let Al and Josephine know that people care.

When we hand the full plates to Miss Dorothy at the back of the church, Melody and I lock eyes and smile. And then, we see Big Momma. She tells us that she has a surprise waiting for us.

Instantly, I recognize the couple standing next to Big Momma. It’s Al and Josephine! Were they here all along? Josephine’s eyes glisten as she says that that was something really special. She thanks us, from the bottom of her heart. All adds that if they ever open another hall, he hopes that we’ll consider performing. We could be the next big act.

Melody says of course, and I’m proud that I could use my talents to help Al and Josephine. I’ve never had so much fun creating music as I’ve had the last few days with Melody. I don’t want to say goodbye to her, but I know it’s almost time.

After the youth choir finishes, I go to the restroom to change out of Lila’s fancy dress and into my own clothes. Then I hurry back out to Melody and Big Momma. I tell Melody that her voice was so beautiful tonight. She thanks me, but it’s the only word that she can get out. It looks like she’s going to cry. Big Momma squeezes Melody’s shoulders, agreeing that she sang like an angel. She reaches for my hands and says that my hands are my strength. I have to let my own light shine. Big Momma doesn’t let go until I nod and show her that I understand. Then she steps away to let me and Melody say our goodbyes.

I pull Melody into a hug, and all I can say to her is that I will never forget her. She still smells like roses, leftover from one of Big Momma’s embraces. I breathe in the scent, hoping I’ll always remember it. My throat is tight as I hurry downstairs to the community room. A few of the youth choir members are leaving, carrying their gowns on their hangers. When the room is empty, I sit down, and then I quietly, but quickly, play the song that will take me home.

Once I’m back in my bedroom, I soak up the silence. The ding of my phone jolts me into action. It’s a text from Anika. She’s responding to my text, the one I sent a couple of minutes ago. Or was it a couple of days ago? I scroll up to see the text: You won’t believe what happened today. Will she believe it? I don’t know. So I just tell her the most important part: Mom said there’s no money for guitars and music class, but I came up with the best idea for a fundraiser. We are going to have a concert.

I didn’t even know I had the idea until it poured out of my fingertips. But now, I can’t wait to talk to Mom about it. Maybe Ms. Stricker can help, too. Maybe we can raise money at the piano recital…