I may not be getting to explore the cathedrals of Europe anytime soon. But tonight, listening to Michelle singing with the choir in the glorious acoustics at Stanford Memorial Church, I felt, it doesn’t get better than this. It just doesn’t.
And when the flute played–a flute! (My family will understand that exclamation point.) From a seat halfway back, I heard every note as clearly as if I’d played it myself.
Wow.
And Jim, who was my kids’ organ teacher, totally hot-dogged it on that massive, ornate old pipe organ way above our heads; he was having a great time. Remember the story about his son Nicholas? Nicholas played a duet with him tonight.
Hark, the angels indeed sing, shining brilliantly in the cool night.