I’ve been intrigued in the past by the phrase “the final straw”. It comes from a metaphor of an overloaded camel, and the one single straw that makes the load too much is associated with one small thing in one’s life that finally makes it all overwhelming. It’s an interesting image, and it shows that even a small weight can make a crucial change when applied at just the wrong moment.
Or, as I saw today, the right one.
It was a quiet afternoon. Kyle had finished practicing his bass, and while he knew Anna was in the other room waiting for him so they could go to dinner, he couldn’t quite bring himself to put down the bow, and he knew Anna wouldn’t mind waiting another moment or two.
So he reached into the back of his folder and drew out a well-worn sheet, with a piece that he keeps mostly for auditions. It is one of his favorites—I could see that in the softness of his eyes as he looked over the well-known lines, and in the way his fingers smoothed the edges of the page. He took a deep breath and bent his head to play.
My friends, I was so glad to be there to hear it. Simple and soft, the music was so touching, and there was such feeling and warmth in the way that Kyle played. I listened, and I forgot everything else except the beauty unfolding under his fingers, a beauty drawn out of present and past, from the moment a man named Mahler wrote out his own private thoughts in song, to this day with autumn sunshine streaming through the window and a good woman waiting quietly in the other room.
Kyle played slowly, more to make the moment last than anything else. When he finished, it was a moment before he looked up. There were tears in his eyes, and I tell you truly, for an instant I was convinced that he saw me, standing there in awe.
Then he shook his head, wiped his eyes, and put his instrument away. Rubbing his chest, where a strange feeling was pulsing along with his heart, he went out into the other room.
He went right up to Anna and leaned over the back of the sofa to kiss her cheek. She jumped a little and laughed.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.
She glanced back at him, then plucked a headphone from her ear. “What did you say?” she asked.
He blinked at her, and the feeling that rushed through him then was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Taking a step back, he collapsed into a chair against the wall.
Anna started to her feet. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked, coming around to touch his face. He was pale.
He had to clear his throat a few times. “He’s real,” he said finally. He looked up at her with such awe in his eyes that she knew exactly who he was talking about. “Anna, he’s—he’s real.”
Anna covered her mouth with her hands, and then she fell to her knees in front of him and clasped his hands tightly. He leaned down and touched his forehead to hers, and neither of them could speak for a while. Neither could I—I was radiating joy, all but singing with it.
“Where did this come from?” Anna finally asked, wiping away her tears and his. “I mean, I’m so glad it came to you, but how?”
He shook his head, pressing his hands to his temples. “I don’t know, I just—I was playing my favorite piece a minute ago, the solo from Mahler Symphony number one, and—Anna, I’ve played it a hundred times, but this time…I’ve never played it so well, and I never will again. But I remember thinking that while I was playing it, and thinking it was okay, because…because I knew, as sure as if I looked up and saw them standing there, that someone was listening.”
My own tears began to flow at that.
“I thought it was you,” he admitted, looking down at Anna. “And it made sense, because I just felt—I was so sure that the person who was listening had all this love and wonder and pride in me and in what I could do. But then you were wearing your headphones, and I realized—” He took a breath, and then shook his head hard. “I wasn’t wrong. I’m not crazy. Someone was there with me, listening. No one will ever convince me that he wasn’t.”
Anna reached up to cradle his face in her hands. “He was,” she whispered. “I’ve felt that, too, Kyle. I’ve felt him here with me, close enough to touch. Isn’t it amazing?”
Kyle was out of words. He nodded and pulled Anna up into his arms.
They prayed together, and then they talked for a long time, quietly thrilled by what had happened. In fact they never did make it to dinner, and neither one of them noticed. Through it all, I stayed with them, grateful beyond words at what I had been privileged to be part of.
Praise be to our Father for revealing his presence through me. After all, I am his as much as Kyle and Anna are, and so where we are, there He is, too. His will be done, as it has been today, and his love be shown throughout the earth. I could ask for nothing more than this.