March 31, 2009… a date never to be forgotten. I never imagined a foreign Mass being so intriguing. It was enough of a challenge trying to understand the Catholic service, as a Christian follower of Christ, but to attempt to translate the service, as a French student was an outsized additional effort.
After spending a long day driving from Oviedo to Santiago de Compostela we spent some short hours walking through the city and enjoying the culture differences from the last city. Just as we began to ride back to the hotel with Stefania, our astounding tour guide, my stomach would not allow me to escape the thought of the “most important concert” that had yet to come that evening. Thus, we all ran to our rooms, went through our usual routine of sharing curling irons, then compliments of how nice we all looked in our choir dresses and digesting tapas, then ran back to the bus to warm our voices up with “Glassy”.
Subsequent to “naa nehh neee noh nooo”s and a few encouraging words from the adults we took our first steps on the marble floors of the simply beautiful Santiago Cathedral. The following fall, I had the opportunity to go on a heartening retreat to strengthen my faith and belief for our Lord and Savior. Since that weekend I seldom encounter these breathtaking moments with the Holy Spirit. Sitting in the cold wooden pews of the church, listening to the voice of the priest and looking up into the high ceilings painted with biblical scenes I encountered one of those remarkable cold chills, which I will never forget.
Along with many of the other singers, I saw a progression of the choir’s performances from the beginning of the trip to that last concert. Following the lecture, the choir was able to sing a concert with the not-so sacred music. Surprisingly, the priest canceled his evening plans and sat in the front pew with a smile hard to describe, expressing the love and appreciation he had for our presence. Throughout the concert, tears were wiped from mothers’ cheeks, applause clapped from Spaniards and electrifying echoes were bouncing from marble wall to marble wall. After the second to last song, I couldn’t help but think to myself “Please, Dr. Glasscock, pick Precious Lord, please, please, please”. I could also hear people to my side whispering the title of the well-known and loved (among the choir) spiritual gospel song over and over again.
The moment Dr. Glasscock spoke the words Precious Lord; gratefulness was expressed by our smiles towards him. Through that song, starting quiet to the first sopranos reaching a high B flat in one of the chords and hearing that beautiful sound echo among the Cathedral truly hit my heart and engraved that minute as a memory I am in no account to overlook. Tears were by now, streaming down my face and shivers down my spine.
With those feelings of appreciation for all the hard work put towards every moment of the trip, I couldn’t thank Dr. Glasscock, Incantato Tours, and everyone else for the opportunity I have experienced, and for the impact it has had on my life ever since. It was simply amazing.
