A couple of years ago I committed to a little note (sometimes words, sometimes drawings) in each of my kids’ lunchboxes, every school day. Today I was reflecting on what makes something special, in reality and perceptions.
First, I have to say up front that I’m not tied to their reaction – I’m doing it as an expression of my love, and how they take it has not effect on my love.
Follow me down this train of thought.
A note in your lunch – one note, one day – is very special and precious.
A note every day for three months loses some of its preciousness and becomes less special as it becomes expected or predictable.
A note every day for twelve years, rain or shine, sick or healthy, present or not, becomes special again. And then again, in retrospect, those notes become more precious after time passes.
In the middle of something, sometimes we lose sight of what is precious and special, because we experience it every day. I think that’s definitely true in the choir room. It will take some of your students a few years to realize how special it was that they got to make music every day.
They won’t realize the gift of daily sight singing until they’re gone and using the result.
You, choral music educators, fill up your students with daily gifts that may seem predictable and not special; but someday you can be certain that your students will realize just how special they are.
(I sometimes save my lunchbox notes via Instagram here)