together in (dis)harmony

I was strumming and picking away at the guitar, belting out as we hit the chorus, "Savior, come as You are, the light of the world, Emmanuel!" Little Juan was right beside me, singing along. This is, after all, his favorite song. Singing and playing this together has become an important part of our rapport with one another. Its just what we do.

It all started out with me playing it for him at night as he went to sleep. After a couple weeks, he began to hum along a little. Then, one night, he just belted out the whole song with me, word for word. I remember how much it choked me up. As a songwriter, I could hope only to create something that connects with a person deeply, so when I heard this practically orphaned child singing my lyrics, "You call, 'Come as you are, burdened and broke down.' I'm not alone now. Savior, You mend my heart!" I could hardly hold the tears back enough to keep singing. 

So, the song has meaning to the kid. And the act of singing it with me is important to him. 
I guess he feels . . . connected when we do.

Where was I?
Ah, yes. Strumming. Picking. Belting. Chorus.

Needless to say, Juan and I were 'in the moment,' totally focused on our song, when another kid, John, walks in and nonchalantly says to Juan, "You can't sing for shit!" Then, to add insult to injury, John begins to sing with me in perfect harmony. Sadly enough, John was not wrong. Juan sings with exuberance, but that's about it. He certainly gets an 'A' for effort, but the kid is tone deaf. Completely shattered by John's comment, Juan teared up and excused himself, trying hard to hide his hurt feelings. Poor Juan just isn't good at many things, but he does have a streak of resilience in him; a will to do things despite knowing he doesn't do them well. That's a trait most of us don't have. Its easy to do what we do well, but most often we just give up on things that challenge us.

By the end of the day, Juan and I were back to belting out the chorus, together in (dis)harmony, and I was inspired by him to contemplate the idea of doing, not for the perceived wellness of something, but completely for the shear love of it.