I sang for some little guys last week in Geneva, so cute. So full of love. They gave me a charming tiara made of silver tinsel and gold stars. A few times, the kids would ask me if I really “sang for a job” and I said “yes.” It was cool. I felt like a princess.
Kids always want to hear me sing Disney songs. They all think I sound like “Cinderella” or “Ariel.” Last week, I sang the “Part of Your World” chorus and they were dead silent. Super cute. When I was about to leave, with my silver tiara perched atop my head, the following conversation happened.
Robert (age 9): It’s okay you don’t want to say it, but I know.
Me: What do you know, Robert?
Robert: I know you are really Ariel. I won’t tell, I promise. I just have a question.
Me: Okay. Ask me.
Robert: What did you do with your mermaid tail?
I forgot, for awhile, how lucky I was…how lucky I am…to be able to sing. To be able to make people feel something or cry or laugh or think about the words or falling in love with the person next to them or pain from a loss or whether or not this blond lady from Texas named LA is hiding a mermaid tail! To make people believe in miracles, in magic. I need to figure out how to do that again.