American Anthem

by BJ Hoff

  Michael stood waiting until every musician was in place, then turned to the audience. He was greeted by wave after wave of applause and raucous whistles. Somewhere a child shouted “God bless America!” and Michael’s face broke into an unrestrained smile.

  He finally had to lift his arms to quiet the crowds. A hush fell over the audience, still standing, the silence a kind of tribute. They were keenly aware that, although they could gaze upon him with respect, he could not see them, and that his blindness was only one of the many difficulties he had faced and overcome.

  Caught up in an overwhelming range of emotions, Susanna began to weep before Michael voiced even his first words.

  She could sense his emotion in his thickening Italian accent as he finally spoke. “I would like first to say, ‘Happy Birthday, America.’”

  The crowd erupted into more applause as children blew whistles and one of the trumpets in the orchestra blasted a brief fanfare.

  Again Michael had to quiet the crowd before going on. “During the time I worked with the music we will play for you tonight, I was aware, painfully so at times, that there was always some vital element that eluded me. At times I feared I would never discover what was missing, and I knew that without it, the music would be less than it was meant to be.”

  He stopped, as if to consider his next words. “Finally, when I least expected it, God revealed to me that I was too, ah, intent on making everything perfect, making everything fit just so, as musicians are wont to do. I began to understand then that I must do with the music what we are meant to do as Americans. I was to celebrate the many voices of America, the differences that make our nation what it is.”

  He opened his arms in an encompassing gesture. “We are different kinds of people, we Americans. We come from different countries. We share different beliefs, different traditions, different dreams, and different music. But one thing we share in common. We are all God’s children, all blessed by His love and His grace. For truly God has bestowed grace to this nation and its people, so that with all our differences, we might yet exist in unity. May we never cease to be mindful that we will exist as a great nation only as we are faithful to our great God.”

  Had Central Park ever been as silent as it was in that moment? Susanna’s heart swelled with so much love and pride she thought she couldn’t contain her feelings for another instant.

  “So please, as we first sing America’s song, our national anthem, and then as the orchestra offers you my own American Anthem, join with us and let us celebrate the birthday of the greatest nation in the world.”

  After the most rousing rendition of “The Star-Spangled Banner” Susanna had ever heard, the crowds made themselves comfortable, some sitting on chairs, some on benches, most on blankets covering the ground.

  Paul Santi, dapper and dignified in his dark suit, rose from his concertmaster’s chair to supervise the discordant process of tuning. Susanna felt the crowd’s expectation go up another notch as they waited through this necessary preliminary.

  Then Michael tapped his baton, and the celebration began.

  Susanna glanced around at those nearest to her. Caterina, her face rapt with attention and love for her father. Papa Emmanuel, who had pulled from his pocket a huge handkerchief and was wiping his eyes with it. And the elegant Rosa Navaro who, Susanna noticed for the first time, seemed to have her arm tucked snugly inside Papa’s arm.

  Moira and Liam Dempsey were there as well, and Miss Fanny Crosby, seated on a blanket, was smiling as always. The newlyweds, Andrew and Bethany Carmichael, sat close together on a quilt, their faces aglow with love and deep contentment. Close by, his eyes continually sweeping over the crowd, stood the gruff Irish policeman Susanna had met during her first few weeks in America—Sergeant Donovan, she recalled. And he was not alone. A small, fair-haired woman held tightly to his hand, and three children Susanna had never seen—a gangly boy and two younger girls—clustered around them. Susanna made a mental note to ask Bethany who they were.

  The MacGoverns sat together on the lawn nearby—all of them, even the baby. Baby William sat in Nell Grace’s lap, his round blue eyes taking in everything around him. But then, seeing his mother, he stretched out his little arms, and Vangie reached to gather him close. Nell Grace, her eyes fixed on the violin section of the orchestra, barely seemed to notice. Then Conn MacGovern leaned over to whisper to his wife, and the smile that Vangie gave him warmed Susanna’s heart.

  It seemed right, somehow, to gather here with family and friends, loved ones and neighbors—plus a few thousand of the folks who filled this remarkable and varied land. Her land, too—the new home that had given her so much. Thankful to share this experience with all of them, Susanna settled back to enjoy the American Anthem.

  She wasn’t in the least surprised that the suite was a work of genius. She had already accepted the fact that the man she loved, the man she would marry in just a few weeks, possessed a gift of which others could only stand in awe. But she was surprised at the length to which Michael had gone to incorporate into the music the many voices of which he’d spoken. She knew about the Negro choir he’d engaged. He had told her about the piper and the elderly Italian street vendor with his accordion. And she was eagerly anticipating Paul Santi’s brief but haunting violin solo based on an old Tuscan theme—a little gift from Michael to his father. But, adamant that he would at least withhold some surprises from her, Michael had not divulged the appearance of the children’s choir from the Cathedral or the Swedish vocalist or the Irish stepdancers or the Spanish guitarist.

  There was no describing the music. Mere words couldn’t possibly begin to define or describe the magnitude of what Michael, with God’s guidance, had accomplished. Overwhelming was the only word that came to mind, and it was a poor substitute for what Susanna was feeling.

  Partly because of her own Irishness but more because of her fondness for the girl, one of the brightest highlights of the evening for Susanna was when Renny Magee swept out from behind the orchestra onto the platform, her tin whistle spilling out Irish tunes like silver coins tumbling down a waterfall, her feet flying as she dazzled the crowds.

  As the music slowed and grew softer, the girl stooped to exchange her tin whistle for something else. Susanna was close enough to see the tears tracking down Renny’s face as she scurried down the steps from the platform and ran into the crowd. As she ran, she released a multicolored kite, fashioned in the shape of a butterfly, into the air, where it rose high and sailed free on the summer breeze.

  Few here tonight would know that Maylee, with Susanna’s help, had begun the kite as an Easter gift for Renny. Maylee had died before she could complete the gift for her friend, but Susanna had gone ahead and finished it, holding it back just for this occasion. Only this morning, she’d presented the kite to Renny in memory of Maylee, who had often spoken of flying free of her poor, frail body, and also to commemorate Renny’s performance in tonight’s concert. The kite was constructed from every colorful scrap of material Renny had ever given Maylee. More than anything else, Susanna thought, it reflected the friendship of two very different—and very wonderful—children.

  Somewhere tonight, Susanna thought, Maylee’s spirit is flying.

  Darkness had completely settled over the park when the fireworks began to flare above the hill. Now Michael unleashed the full force of the orchestra for the monumental finale. The combined experience of the explosion of music and the fireworks brought the audience to their feet—but almost sent Susanna to her knees.

  She could only stand in wonder of the spectacle playing out before her and the thunderous riot of music under Michael’s baton. She was weeping, she was praying, she was laughing as Central Park erupted in celebration and praise.

  When the music stopped and Michael turned to face his audience, he appeared dazed, as if stunned by his own achievement and its effect on those before him. His face was wreathed in perspiration and an exhausted smile, his lightweight black suit hanging limply on his tal
l form.

  But his words came ringing out over Central Park like a holy benediction when he opened his arms as if to embrace the audience and cried, “May God…forever…bless America—and all her many voices!”

  In that moment, that sanctified moment, Susanna’s heart whispered a fervent amen.

  DISCUSSION QUESTIONS

  For Prelude

  1. Prelude is not only the beginning novel of a trilogy, but it’s also an account of “beginnings” for most of its main characters. Do you think starting over is more difficult for women than for men, and, if so, in what ways? In what significant ways does Susanna’s new venture differ from the “new beginnings” of Bethany Cole and Vangie MacGovern?

  2. How do you feel about Michael’s attempts to keep the truth about his marriage from Susanna? Do you believe he’s being fair, protective, or deceitful? Do you think Paul is justified in finally telling Susanna the truth? How can loyalty to a friend or family member sometimes intrude upon the well-being or even the safety of a third party?

  3. When did you first sense that Susanna’s doubts and misgivings about Michael, based on Deirdre’s letters, might be unfounded? Have you ever formed an opinion about someone based solely on information supplied by another, only to learn that the person was far different from what you’d been told? How did you move past the temptation to let your judgment be clouded in the same way again?

  4. Do you agree with Vangie that the comforting figure she witnesses in the harbor just before they leave Ireland is a godly “promise?” Have there been times in your life when God has somehow manifested to you a sign or a promise of His presence and His safekeeping? How did you respond?

  5. In your opinion, is the young street musician, Renny Magee, a tragic figure or a survivor to be admired? What are her strengths? What are her weaknesses? Why do you think Vangie is so drawn to the girl, and Renny to Vangie?

  6. One of the epigraphs in Prelude, written by John Boyle O’Reilly, reads: “Our feet on the torrent’s brink, Our eyes on the cloud afar, We fear the things we think, Instead of the things that are.” Which character do you think this most applies to: Vangie, Susanna, or Renny Magee? Why?

  7. When Andrew tells Bethany that he believes the kind of healing being effected by D. L. Moody and Ira Sankey in their evangelistic campaigns is more important than what he can offer as a physician, what is he getting at? Do you think he’s being wise or foolish to subject himself to elements—such as prolonged cold and dampness aboard ship—that he knows could aggravate his poor health? Do you agree with his reasoning about this issue?

  8. As one of the early women physicians in the United States, Bethany faces a number of obstacles in gaining the respect of her peers and her patients. What do you believe accounts for Andrew’s immediate acceptance of her as a member of his own profession—and a partner in his medical practice? What makes him different from most of his colleagues? Have you ever felt the resistance of your contemporaries in relation to your occupation or your field of study? How do you deal with the problems you encounter without becoming bitter or resentful?

  9. What other significant elements besides music did you find woven into the story of Prelude?

  10. Toward the end of the book, Susanna realizes that she stands at a “crossroads,” that she has a choice between holding onto the past or moving forward in faith. Have you faced a similar crossroads in your life? How did your decision affect your walk of faith, your spiritual journey?

  For Cadence

  1. One of the few times Susanna manages to let go of her feelings of inadequacy is when she’s at the piano, absorbed in the music of a “great composer”—or in Michael’s original compositions. Not only is she swept up, beyond her insecurities, when she plays, but she also seems to gain a strong sense of the composer’s heart. When God gifts a person with an exceptional ability or talent, do you feel that others can actually be drawn, moved closer, to God by exposure to that gift? How do we define “talent” as opposed to “gift?” What do you think accounts for the way some seem possessed of many gifts and abilities while others seem to excel at very little, if anything?

  2. Just when his future couldn’t look more bleak, Conn MacGovern rushes to rescue a terrified stallion on the docks of New York City. For the first time since their arrival in America, hope for a better life for him and his family seems within reach. This one impulsive act—coming to the aid of a suffering animal and those placed in charge of the animal—leads to events that only hours before couldn’t have been imagined. While some might tend to see this occurrence as coincidence, what do you think? Is there such a thing as coincidence in the life of a Christian?

  3. After meeting Maylee, a child afflicted with a premature aging disease, Dr. Bethany Cole confronts her associate, Andrew Carmichael, with a question similar to one asked throughout the ages by non-believers and believers: “He (God) may not have caused it (the disease), but he could prevent it! If God loves her so much, then why doesn’t he simply take it from her? Or at least provide a means of mitigating the symptoms and easing her misery?” Have you ever struggled with the question of why God doesn’t intervene to spare the suffering—or the life—of one of his children? Do you believe it’s wrong to question why God does or doesn’t act in certain ways? How do you think God views our doubting and questioning of his will?

  4. Although Michael loves his young cousin, Paul, “like a brother”—and though he despises himself for the jealousy that has begun to plague him in regard to Paul and Susanna—he can’t deny the fact that he is jealous. He recognizes the destructiveness of this emotion and is determined not to let it gain control of his feelings again, as it had during his marriage to Susanna’s sister. Is there ever a time when jealousy is “acceptable?” What does the Bible mean when it calls God a “jealous God?”

  5. What do you think accounts for Michael’s reluctance to move beyond friendship with Susanna, when he knows he loves her? Is he merely being protective of her, or is it something else?

  6. What was your first reaction to the following: Upon “meeting” the opium-addicted mother of young Robert Warburton and his small sisters, all illegitimate? Upon hearing the boy’s angry accusations, that their father was a highly respected, prestigious clergyman? Upon hearing Andrew Carmichael’s charge that people—including “good people,” Christian people—are inclined to forget the “Mary Lamberts of the world,” that their problems often seem “so overwhelming that one person couldn’t possibly make a difference?” Can you think of any situations, either from personal experience, or perhaps in your own community or church, that would contradict this assumption?

  7. Susanna was quick to believe that Michael had been deceitful, had deliberately attempted to dupe her into playing the organ for his Christmas concert even though he knew she didn’t want to. Why was she so quick to suspect him of duplicity? Have you ever reacted in a similar manner—made assumptions, suspected someone of trying to deceive you based on past experience or because of something you thought you knew? How did you feel…and how did you react…when you realized you’d been wrong?

  8. What does Susanna finally realize about her lifelong avoidance of the “limelight,” her preference to remain “backstage?” When she finally admits that her humility might have been a kind of false humility, she asks herself the question: “How did one distinguish genuine humility—a virtue God not only approved but even commanded—from a desire to be ‘safe,’ a deliberate attempt to stay backstage out of fear of failure?” How would you answer that question?”

  9. What does Vangie mean when she finally admits to Conn that her reason for keeping her pregnancy a secret was because she meant to “punish” him? Have you ever done this—withheld something you knew would bring joy to a person you cared about as a means of “punishing” or “getting back” at that person? What do you think the real motivation for this kind of behavior is?

  10. In Susanna’s eyes, Michael had “exchanged a crown (the crown of celebrity) for a Cross, the
Cross of Christ.” What are some of the pitfalls of celebrity? What is the Christian’s perception of “success” and “celebrity” to be?

  For Jubilee

  1. When Andrew Carmichael first goes to the home of Robert Warburton, he’s aware that he’s exceeding the boundaries of his profession. He senses that anger—an anger stemming from the determination to right a wrong inflicted on a patient—motivates his behavior. Do you agree? Is this a case of “righteous anger” or are Andrew’s actions prompted more by a kind of carnal outrage?

  2. When Susanna realizes that Michael has become her closest friend as well as her husband-to-be, she’s somewhat surprised by the thought. Yet, friendship can be the very cornerstone of a marriage. What other elements can work together to strengthen and enrich a husband and wife’s life together?

  3. Is Riccardo Emmanuel, Michael’s father, genuinely concerned that his son might be wasting a God-given gift (Michael’s singing voice), or does his frustration have more to do with his own pride? Is his refusal to accept his son’s retirement from the opera world truly motivated by a conviction that Michael has made a terrible mistake? Or is he merely unwilling to see Michael give up his former celebrity and success?

  4. In your opinion, is there any basis for Renny Magee’s feelings of guilt about the death of Aidan MacGovern? Do you believe, as Renny seems to believe, that if she had stayed behind in Ireland, she could have spared the MacGovern family the pain of losing their first-born son?

  5. What do you think accounts for Frank Donovan’s obvious resolve to protect, first, Andrew Carmichael, and, later, Mary Lambert, at all costs? Is this tendency to “guard,” to “shelter” those he cares about a contradiction to his real nature? Describe, as you see it, the true character of the Irish police sergeant.