Skim a pebble across the water and you’ll see the ripples return to you.
Sing or listen to a song and the same thing happens.
The other day I’m singing a song when a big smile comes across a man’s face. He stops and talks for a little bit and we discuss the particular song I’m singing.
“Charlie Rich,” he says. “The Silver Fox,” I respond. “Lonely Weekends.”
We discuss his great artistry, and he tells me he’ll be back—that he wants his wife to hear me sing.
Well, two hours pass. All the while, I’m singing. And lo and behold, the gentleman I’ve sang to earlier in the day comes back with his wife, and another couple they’re traveling with.
We smile. They’re from Seattle. He’s a retired barber. He and his wife have splurged to buy probably one of the only things they’re splurged on in their lives and purchased an RV. Now, they’re traveling across the country. Graceland is on their bucket list. Today, you can picture me toting a pail of water and delivering to them a memory.
I do the standard Elvis fare when at play at Elvis Presley’s Memphis, but include a wide range of artists of the day and people who were influenced by the king.
“Can you do another Charlie Rich song—The Most Beautiful Girl in the World?” he asks.
Well, I’ve never done that song in my life, but I’ll try it. From memory—I happen to love Charlie Rich—I sing The Most Beautiful Girl in the World.
When I finish, he comes up with his wife and begins telling me the reason I’ve sang a couple of Charlie Rich tunes today.
“My little daughter lay in a hospital bed in the same room as a little boy who lost his battle,” he began. “My daughter and this little boy became close. So, when he passed away, we were all shaken to the core and in mourning. The parents had bought the little boy a radio and wanted my daughter to have it.
“They brought it up to her room and gave it to her,” the father continued. “Now, my little daughter absolutely loved Charlie Rich and in particular the song that you just sang.”
“I plugged in the radio and what do you think came on the radio?”
If you answered, The Most Beautiful Girl in the World,” you’d be correct, this gentleman said.
“You can’t tell me that’s coincidence,” he said, as his eyes moistened.
“Thank you for singing that song for me today.”
For believing in the power of music, this man is my hero. And Charlie Rich. And this man’s little girl, who now is a mother.
Keep on throwing pebbles in the raging ocean of life. They’re coming back.