“It’s one of the reasons your mom is so passionate about the problem of homelessness, and why she hosts this benefit each year. In most American cities, the largest number of homeless people are children.” Miss Julia took their coats and started to hang them up. “Actually, you girls can hang up your own coats!” She handed over hangers.
“But you never see children out on the street with cardboard signs asking for money or food,” Mia said, hanging her coat on the rack.
“Usually not,” Miss Julia said. “But for every homeless mom or dad, there are often two or more children who also don’t have a place to live. That’s why shelters like Third Street are so important. Shelters provide a place for families to stay, and for children to be safe, while parents work toward getting jobs and the ability to pay for housing and food.”
“But how do they end up without jobs and homeless?” Maddie asked. “Did they do something wrong and get fired?”
“People lose their jobs for all sorts of reasons. Once, I heard a woman tell her story—she and her husband both worked in service jobs. Neither made much money, but they had enough to pay their bills from month to month and to save a little. He worked at the airport, helping load baggage onto planes, and she worked at the post office. Then, for a lot of reasons, there came a few months where many people were laid off from their jobs. First the woman lost her job, and then her husband did too.”
“What does laid off mean?” Maddie asked.
“That’s when a company has to cut back the number of people who work for them. People don’t get laid off for doing anything wrong, but because there’s not enough work and not enough money to pay them anymore.”
“So what happened to the people?” Lulu wanted to know.
“They both took temporary jobs at a fast food restaurant and worked hard, but they had to use money from their savings every month because they weren’t earning enough. They had to pay their rent and buy food for their three kids, who were four, six, and seven. Money got tighter and tighter, and then, one day, their boss called the whole staff in and told them the restaurant was closing.”
“So, they didn’t have jobs again?” Mia asked.
“Right,” Miss Julia said. “But it was worse this time, because they’d used up most of their savings. They didn’t have enough to live on while they looked for new jobs. So, they started selling their furniture and other possessions, until they just had one suitcase for each person. On the last night of the month, they packed the kids into the car to go to their favorite park and have a picnic dinner of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. They let the kids play until the sun set, and then everyone loaded back into the car. And then they drove around, not knowing where to go. The kids asked their parents when they could go home and go to bed, but of course, they didn’t have a house to go home to. They drove until the kids fell asleep and then they parked the car and slept. The next day, they went to apply for help at the shelter.”
“Do they live at the shelter now?” Maddie asked.
“They’re a success story, actually,” Miss Julia said. “At the shelter, they both received training. The dad ended up getting a job at a local church, running the music program. The mom took some university courses and earned the certificate she needed to be a preschool teacher. They moved out of the shelter, and now I believe he comes back for lunch most days to help out with music. He’s a talented piano player.”
“Henry!” the girls said in unison.
“You met him?” Miss Julia asked.
“He played our song for us today,” Mia said.
“Thanks for telling us his story,” Maddie said.
“You’re welcome,” Miss Julia said. “But now you girls had better hurry up and get out there on stage! I know your dad wanted to start rehearsal as soon as possible.”
“Are you coming to watch?” Lulu asked.
“You bet!” Miss Julia said.
TWENTY-ONE
Finally! There you are!” Dad called from the front of the stage. “Come on over here, girls, and let’s check how you sound in this microphone.”
Lulu bounded across the stage, ready, as always, to have a microphone in hand. With the full band on stage, and the empty microphone waiting for them, the upcoming performance was starting to feel very, very real.
“You’ll do great!” Mom said, giving Maddie’s shoulder a squeeze as she passed by. “I’ll be out in the auditorium so I can see everything and give you girls some direction. Have fun and embrace the moment!”
Dad arranged them with Mia in the middle. “Okay, let’s check this out. Let’s just sing a line or two.”
While they sang, Dad stared at his feet, listening to the band and the voices together. “How’s that sounding, Gloria?”
“A little louder on the microphone” she said.
Lulu bumped Mia out of the way and took center stage, standing smack-dab in the middle of the Opry circle. “I should be in the middle, because I’m the smallest!”
She stood on her tiptoes, but wasn’t tall enough to reach the microphone. Mia stepped aside, but looked questioningly at Dad to see if he would let Lulu get away with this. Dad, in turn, looked out at Mom.
“Actually, it does look best with Lulu in the middle,” Mom said. “But Lulu, check your heart. Remember, this isn’t just your performance.”
Dad brought a crate out so Lulu could stand on top and be tall enough to sing into the microphone.
“Lulu, a little quieter please,” Mom said.
“So you don’t drown us all out,” Mia told her.
“Well, you should speak up,” Lulu said. “Or sing up, or whatever.”
“Maddie, I can’t hear you at all,” Dad said. “I know you can be louder. Send your voice out to the audience, all the way out to Mom.”
“Pretend you’re singing at the shelter,” Mia said. “You were perfectly loud there.”
Maddie glanced around the stage at all the people watching and breathed deeply. At the shelter, she hadn’t felt so put on the spot. There was no microphone, and so much less pressure. Here, singing felt so much more . . . serious. She counted again, doing her best to push her voice out farther.
“Much better,” Dad said. “Nice job, Maddie.”
Mom nodded and smiled proudly at Maddie. “Girls, I’d like to do the version of the song where you each take a verse on your own. You sounded so great today singing the whole song together, but I’d love for you to each have your own moment to shine. When you sing your solo verse, turn the microphone so it’s directed toward you, and sing directly into it. Okay?”
Behind them, the music started up, and the girls started to sing. Maddie heard her own voice bouncing back from the balcony. For a moment, this threw her off so much that she stopped singing.
Mia elbowed her and hissed, “Sing, Maddie!”
Maddie stared down at her toes. Come on, Maddie, she thought. You can do this.
It was hard to hear her harmony through the echo in the room. Everything felt off—the beat, the way her voice clashed against her sisters’ voices. Mia kept using her heel to try to emphasize the beat, so they’d all be in time, but her tapping was out of sync with the drums behind them. Lulu’s voice rang out louder than everything else. The more the harmonies went sour, the louder Lulu sang. She started doing fancy dance moves on her crate, as though that might distract everyone from the disaster song. Then came time for Maddie’s solo. She turned the mic her way, looked down at the floor, and started to sing. As long as she didn’t look out at the rows of lights, at all the empty seats, she would be fine. She tried to force herself not to listen, but she couldn’t help hearing the wobbly sound in her tone, which made everything sound a little flat. Her solo seemed to go on and on, but eventually, her verse came to an end. Relieved, she turned the mic back toward Lulu.
They started singing together again for the final chorus. Lulu launched in, singing at the top of her lungs. Mia had finally had enough.
She stopped singing and said, “
Lulu, knock it off!”
“We sound bad,” Lulu said.
“Because you’re drowning everyone out,” Mia said.
“And you’re bossing everyone around,” Lulu said.
“Am not.”
“Are too!”
The musicians stopped playing and Mom hurried up to the stage.
“We were awful,” Lulu said, stamping her foot. “I want to sing again, but not with them.”
“It wasn’t our fault,” Mia said. “If you’d stop trying to hog the whole performance, maybe we’d sound better.”
“I wasn’t hogging!” Lulu said.
“Girls, stop,” Mom said, her face serious. She called to the band, “Hey, everyone, let’s take five.”
Dad came over. “Want me to stick around?”
“I’ll take this one to start,” Mom said.
“Right. Let me know if you need me,” he said.
The girls followed Mom into the seating area. They sat on the wooden benches, looking at the empty stage. For a long moment, Mom didn’t say anything at all.
“We didn’t get the heart thing right, did we?” Mia asked.
Mom gave a slow, sad shake of her head. “I know it’s hard, especially when you have a microphone and are on this Opry stage. But I saw you sing from your hearts—your sweet, beautiful hearts—this afternoon at the shelter. I know you can do it. We’re going to try it again, and here’s what I want you to think about. Maddie, I want you to look up, and take a mental picture when you sing. This is your first time singing at the Opry—it’s a special moment, you should enjoy it. Okay?”
Maddie pressed her fingers into the cool wood of her seat. “Okay.”
Mom gently tilted her chin up. “That means no more looking at your feet, okay?”
With Mom smiling at her like this, Maddie couldn’t help but smile too. “Okay.”
“Mia, it doesn’t have to be perfect,” Mom said. “Just do your best and have fun. If you’re so busy trying to be perfect, you’re going to miss the moment. The best moments are not perfect. It’s about having passion in the moment.”
“I can do that,” Mia said. “I can try, anyway.”
“Good,” Mom said. “And Lulu?”
Lulu gave Mom an innocent look. “Like I said, it’s not all about you. I want you thinking as much about your sisters up there as you think about yourself. And not about what your sisters should or shouldn’t be doing. I want you to think about having fun with them. About enjoying this experience together. Got it?”
Lulu threw her arms around Mom in a giant hug. “Got it.”
“Okay, then,” Mom said. “Let’s try this again.”
TWENTY-TWO
After a few more run-throughs of the song, the girls hit their stride. Maddie managed to look up as she sang. Lulu pulled her voice back and tamed her dance moves. Mia made it all the way through without stopping to give instructions. Mom joined them onstage to sing backup, and the musicians worked through the final musical details. Performing with Mom behind them felt strange, but knowing she was there reassured Maddie. If anything happened, she knew Mom could guide them back to where they needed to be in the song.
Since they finished their rehearsal midafternoon, they had the rest of the night off. Ms. Carpenter had given Maddie and Mia a free night—no homework—so they could prepare for the benefit. The minute they walked in the door at home, Mia and Lulu ran upstairs to figure out their costumes. Maddie curled up on the couch, needing a little quiet time. So much had happened today, and she needed to think.
“You okay?” Mom asked, sitting down next to her on the couch.
“Yeah. I think so,” Maddie said. “Well, I don’t know.”
Peals of laughter floated down from upstairs. Mia obviously thought that whatever Lulu wanted to wear for the concert was hilarious.
“Want to take a walk?” Mom asked.
A quiet walk with Mom sounded perfect. Maddie jumped off the couch. “Yes!”
They walked up the street to the path they sometimes walked on, through the trees and down toward the creek. The path was still wet from the rain, but the gray clouds had given way to bright blue sky. Trees lined the path, their leaves yellow, orange, and red.
“Do you think we helped today—at Third Street?” Maddie asked. “I mean, I know we served food, but I don’t know . . . did we help? That girl we were talking to today, Ruby, she was our age and she liked music—she’s like me and Mia. But she doesn’t have a home to live in. I talked to her and everything, but that doesn’t seem like much. I want to help, Mom, but what would I even do?”
Mom stopped, pointing out a deer across the field. The deer leapt toward the trees, where a spotted fawn waited.
“Instead of looking at how big the problem seems, remember that the littlest things you do can make all the difference.”
“Like talking to Ruby?” Maddie asked.
“Exactly. Or like singing together. Did you see the way faces lit up when people started to sing?”
“I know they need food and somewhere to live, but like Denise said, it seems like what they actually need is . . . to believe that someday things can be different, I guess. But how do you change a person’s mind?” Now Maddie wasn’t only thinking about Ruby, but also about Annabeth and Emily.
They’d made it down to the creek, and Mom picked up a rock to skip across the water.
“Annabeth and Emily are mad at us,” Maddie said. “You know how we made that dance, since they had one that didn’t include us? Anyway, I guess making our own dance was the wrong thing to do. And then they got even more upset because we’re singing at the Opry. Everything feels, I don’t know. Like how things felt when we first sang our song today. Everything is off-key and out of rhythm. And I don’t know how to fix it.”
Mom’s rock skipped once, and then twice, and she picked up another rock to try again. “Ruby, Annabeth, and Emily, plus the concert—that’s a lot of challenges to be thinking about at once.”
“I want to make a difference—a real difference—for Ruby. But I’m just me. What can I do?”
“The desire to want to help someone comes from God. And God seems to have put Ruby, in particular, on your heart. Is anything else on your heart, maybe about what you might do to help her?”
“I don’t know. I guess I could pray for her,” Maddie said.
“That’s a perfect place to start,” Mom said. “And while you’re at it, you could also ask God to help you know what else you might be able to do.”
“What if I can’t tell what God is telling me to do?” Maddie said. “If we can’t hear God’s voice out loud, how are we supposed to know?”
“That’s a great question,” Mom said. “For me, the more I pray about something, the more I hear God’s voice. I check in with myself and notice. Is this a desire that doesn’t go away? What’s that idea or thought that keeps coming back? That’s the Holy Spirit nudging you.”
“Could we pray right now?” Maddie asked.
“Absolutely,” Mom said.
They sat on a rock. Maddie waited, listening to the stream going by, letting her mind become as quiet as it could. Then she prayed, “God, I want to do something for Ruby. Maybe to give her something. But I don’t know what to give—she needs so much. I can’t give her a house or a happier life, not right away. I also want to fix things with Annabeth and Emily, and I don’t know how to do that either. Will you help me? Maybe give me an idea? Thank you for helping me sing today at the shelter, and also for helping me again at the Opry. Help me not to panic tomorrow night. Make it as dark as possible in the audience, God, so I can’t see all those eyes. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
“Amen.” Mom kissed Maddie on the top of her head. “I’ll pray for those things too, sweet girl. And now, what do you say we go home and see what the girls want to wear for the concert?”
“Let’s do it.” Maddie picked up a rock to skip. “After I skip this rock.”
“Go for it,” Mom said.
T
WENTY-THREE
Come see, come see, Mommy!” Lulu shouted from upstairs.
Maddie tried to picture what Lulu would have chosen to wear for the concert, but with Lulu, anything was possible.
“I’m ready too!” Mia toppled out into the hallway in silver high heels that she must have borrowed from Mom’s closet. Mia was wearing her fanciest holiday dress, with velvet, satin, and sequins.
“My feet are only a few sizes smaller than yours, Mom,” she said. “We need concert shoes, don’t we?”
“What you need is to be able to walk across the stage without falling over.” Mom shook her head, smiling. “Okay, Lulu, let’s see your outfit.”
“Ta-da!” Lulu threw open her bedroom door.
There she stood in her hot pink-striped bathing suit and cowboy boots. She’d found a fancy dress-up hat covered with ribbons and lace, and wore that too. It was too big, and slipped down over one of her eyes. Pushing it up again, she curtseyed low. “What do you think?”
Maddie and Mia both burst out laughing.
“What?” Lulu asked.
Mia choked out an answer over her laughter. “First of all, you can’t wear a bathing suit on stage at the Opry.”
“All right, girls,” Mom said. “Let’s find you something you can wear. Mia, that dress is much too fancy. Let’s take a look in your closet.”
“Maybe we should go shopping?” Maddie suggested, following Mom into Mia’s bedroom.
“You have plenty of dresses to pick from.” Mom rifled through Mia’s dresses and pulled out a few flowered dresses in pinks, purples, greens, and yellows. She found some similar options in Maddie’s closet, and then said, “Lulu, I think you have a dress that will match too. Let’s go see.”
Down the hallway they all traipsed and found two similar dresses in Lulu’s closet. The girls tried on one combination and stood together in front of Lulu’s full-length mirror. Mom nodded, looking at each of them, and then stepped back to look at all three together.
Miracle in Music City Page 8
