Just doing the pushing..!

She said her name was Marie and I'd watched as she'd been led slowly to her seat in the empty auditorium. "That's my daughter," she whispered to me and we watched a young lady going back on stage to rehearse with the rest of the choir, "she's the one who trained the choir?" I asked.
"Yes," said Marie, my new friend, "and that one playing the violin, "she's my granddaughter and the man in the blue shirt behind, that's her father!"
I listened to the choir as they rehearsed Mozart's Requiem. "Your daughter's trained them well," I said, "they sound beautiful!"
"Yes," said Marie, "Yes!" I watched her face without her knowing and found a quiet look of peace, "My husband would have been happy," she said after a while.
"What's his name?" I asked.
"A.V," she said.
"AV?" I asked, "Ofcourse I know him, I sang with him, is he coming for the concert?"
"He must be listening to it right now," she chuckled. I looked around. "You can't see him," she smiled, "he passed on six months ago!"
"I'm sorry," I said.
"He must be singing in a choir up there," she said, "I remember he said Marie its difficult going all the way for choir practice, but I said to him, AV you love singing, you go!"
"Do you sing too?" I asked.
"No," she said, "I just do the pushing."
"Pushing?" I asked.
"Yes," she said, "I push them for their choir and their violin lessons and piano classes. I jes do the pushing!"
"You've done good pushing Marie," I thought to myself as I listened to the Newman Choir, their voices rising in crescendo that would have made Mozart proud. And as I listened to my friend Dr Grubb and Patrick and Natasha and Sashi sing their quartet piece, I remembered a story I had heard and which I had used so often in my talks:
Jamie was a shy little boy who lived in a small town in England. One day, he came to his mother as she prepared his lunch and told her he would like to take part in the annual school play. "It's the audition today, mom," he said shyly.
"Give it a shot," she told him and tousled his hair.
"Yes, mother," he said, "That's what I aim to do."
       That evening his mother went over to the school and stood outside the gates, waiting for her little Jamie; waiting to hear how he had fared. The doors opened and Jamie was the first one to rush out and leap into his mother's arms, "Ma," he shouted, "his eyes gleaming with happiness, "I've been chosen to clap and to cheer!"
The quartet had just finished singing and my eyes moved to Marie as she sat next to me, her lined face gleaming with satisfaction, "Thank you God," I prayed, "for people like her."
People who were willing to skip the limelight, who don't need to bask in the glare of publicity and take centre stage; who clapped and cheered and encouraged their loved ones to shine.
"Thank you God" I whispered as I glanced sideways at grey haired Marie, "thank you for those you've chosen to clap and cheer.!
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Just doing the pushing..!

She said her name was Marie and Id watched as shed been led slowly to her seat in the empty auditorium. Thats my daughter, she whispered to me and we watched a young lady going back on stage to rehearse with the rest of the choir, shes the one who trained the choir? I asked. Yes, said Marie, my new friend, and that one playing the violin, shes my granddaughter and the man in the blue shirt behind, thats her father! I listened to the choir as they rehearsed Mozarts Requiem. Your daughters trained them well, I said, they sound beautiful! Yes, said Marie, Yes! I watched her face without her knowing and found a quiet look of peace, My husband would have been happy, she said after a while. Whats his name? I asked. A.V, she said. AV? I asked, Ofcourse I know him, I sang with him, is he coming for the concert? He must be listening to it right now, she chuckled. I looked around. You cant see him, she smiled, he passed on six months ago! Im sorry, I said. He must be singing in a choir up there, she said, I remember he said Marie its difficult going all the way for choir practice, but I said to him, AV you love singing, you go! Do you sing too? I asked. No, she said, I just do the pushing. Pushing? I asked. Yes, she said, I push them for their choir and their violin lessons and piano classes. I jes do the pushing! Youve done good pushing Marie, I thought to myself as I listened to the Newman Choir, their voices rising in crescendo that would have made Mozart proud. And as I listened to my friend Dr Grubb and Patrick and Natasha and Sashi sing their quartet piece, I remembered a story I had heard and which I had used so often in my talks: Jamie was a shy little boy who lived in a small town in England. One day, he came to his mother as she prepared his lunch and told her he would like to take part in the annual school play. Its the audition today, mom, he said shyly. Give it a shot, she told him and tousled his hair. Yes, mother, he said, Thats what I aim to do. That evening his mother went over to the school and stood outside the gates, waiting for her little Jamie; waiting to hear how he had fared. The doors opened and Jamie was the first one to rush out and leap into his mothers arms, Ma, he shouted, his eyes gleaming with happiness, Ive been chosen to clap and to cheer! The quartet had just finished singing and my eyes moved to Marie as she sat next to me, her lined face gleaming with satisfaction, Thank you God, I prayed, for people like her. People who were willing to skip the limelight, who dont need to bask in the glare of publicity and take centre stage; who clapped and cheered and encouraged their loved ones to shine. Thank you God I whispered as I glanced sideways at grey haired Marie, thank you for those youve chosen to clap and cheer.! [email protected]