spoke to her.
Christine had just come in her dressing room from a particularly trying rehearsal. She slammed her dressing room door with uncharacteristic anger. I watched with concern as she paced up and down the floor finally throwing herself onto the divan in a torrent of tears. Finally, she looked up almost directly at me, causing me to freeze automatically. Her beautiful face was wet with tears and she whispered as though in prayer, "Oh Papa, I miss you so much! I'll never amount to anything as a dancer much less a singer. You lied to me, Papa, and I fear that I've failed you. How I wish there were truly an Angel of Music that could teach me to sing!" Her head lowered again in despair.
I could not breathe and had to stumble across to the wall in order to stay upright. The deviousness of what I thought to do was swiftly overridden by the knowledge that this! This was my opportunity to link our lives! I could teach her, shape her voice and without her ever seeing my face! The cold, damp air of the passage entered my lungs filling me with a new surge of strength. I stood outside her mirror and began to sing softly, imperceptibly at first and then growing in volume until the very air around my Beloved seemed to swirl with music. Her sobbing had concluded but she continued to breath heavily. I watched her cautiously sit straight up and look all around her trying to determine the source of my voice. Her eyes were wide and an expression of incredulous rapture glazed her expression. My heart beat madly in my chest as I watched her expression turn to bliss. Her eyes grew heavy, closing and her precious lips were parted. I rejoiced in the seductive power my voice had to move her. Smoothly, I ended my song and she gradually came out of her dreamlike state. "Angel?" she whispered, tentatively.
"I am here, Christine." I answered while using my voice to seem as though I were right next to her.
She jumped slightly, looking around as though to see me.
"I am honored by your Presence. Are you here to teach me?" she questioned innocently.
"Yes, Christine. Your voice is merely inexperienced and I will show you how to use the gift you have been given. We shall meet here in your dressing room each morning before rehearsal. I expect you to give yourself completely to my tutelage. You will display the discipline required or I will not instruct you." I offered, already knowing she would not refuse me.
"Oh, yes, my Angel. It shall be as you say. Each morning before rehearsal. I am most grateful...." she lapsed into silence, uncertain what to say.
"Very well. A demain."
"Until tomorrow, my Angel." Christine murmured before I left her.
"My Angel." Christine called me her angel and sweeter words were never before heard by a man. She believed me to be an Angel of Music sent to her to teach her to sing. Tears formed in my eyes at the thought of being such a glorious presence to her. Leaning back in my chair before the fire, I allowed myself the indulgence of remembering her words. Of course, I could not hope to ever be a real man to her. She would never be repulsed by my face because she would never see it. My flight of fancy had become a heavenly reality, I thought. Even though I will never be able to make love to Christine as a man, I can make love to her musically as an Angel. Something no other man will ever be able to do with her. A bond shared only between Christine and myself. It was an opening never before available to me and I clutched it.
Christine had just come in her dressing room from a particularly trying rehearsal. She slammed her dressing room door with uncharacteristic anger. I watched with concern as she paced up and down the floor finally throwing herself onto the divan in a torrent of tears. Finally, she looked up almost directly at me, causing me to freeze automatically. Her beautiful face was wet with tears and she whispered as though in prayer, "Oh Papa, I miss you so much! I'll never amount to anything as a dancer much less a singer. You lied to me, Papa, and I fear that I've failed you. How I wish there were truly an Angel of Music that could teach me to sing!" Her head lowered again in despair.
I could not breathe and had to stumble across to the wall in order to stay upright. The deviousness of what I thought to do was swiftly overridden by the knowledge that this! This was my opportunity to link our lives! I could teach her, shape her voice and without her ever seeing my face! The cold, damp air of the passage entered my lungs filling me with a new surge of strength. I stood outside her mirror and began to sing softly, imperceptibly at first and then growing in volume until the very air around my Beloved seemed to swirl with music. Her sobbing had concluded but she continued to breath heavily. I watched her cautiously sit straight up and look all around her trying to determine the source of my voice. Her eyes were wide and an expression of incredulous rapture glazed her expression. My heart beat madly in my chest as I watched her expression turn to bliss. Her eyes grew heavy, closing and her precious lips were parted. I rejoiced in the seductive power my voice had to move her. Smoothly, I ended my song and she gradually came out of her dreamlike state. "Angel?" she whispered, tentatively.
"I am here, Christine." I answered while using my voice to seem as though I were right next to her.
She jumped slightly, looking around as though to see me.
"I am honored by your Presence. Are you here to teach me?" she questioned innocently.
"Yes, Christine. Your voice is merely inexperienced and I will show you how to use the gift you have been given. We shall meet here in your dressing room each morning before rehearsal. I expect you to give yourself completely to my tutelage. You will display the discipline required or I will not instruct you." I offered, already knowing she would not refuse me.
"Oh, yes, my Angel. It shall be as you say. Each morning before rehearsal. I am most grateful...." she lapsed into silence, uncertain what to say.
"Very well. A demain."
"Until tomorrow, my Angel." Christine murmured before I left her.
"My Angel." Christine called me her angel and sweeter words were never before heard by a man. She believed me to be an Angel of Music sent to her to teach her to sing. Tears formed in my eyes at the thought of being such a glorious presence to her. Leaning back in my chair before the fire, I allowed myself the indulgence of remembering her words. Of course, I could not hope to ever be a real man to her. She would never be repulsed by my face because she would never see it. My flight of fancy had become a heavenly reality, I thought. Even though I will never be able to make love to Christine as a man, I can make love to her musically as an Angel. Something no other man will ever be able to do with her. A bond shared only between Christine and myself. It was an opening never before available to me and I clutched it.