In 2001, I sang Vivaldi’s “Gloria” with the Woodfords Church choir. I brought my 90-year-old mother. I found it hard to put into words the feeling that happened in that sanctuary that Sunday afternoon in November. I had sung the “Gloria” before, and heard it many many times. But this was different, somehow.
My mother and I sat in silence as I drove her home. Then she nailed it. “You know,” she said, “after music like that, the whole world looks different.” And it did.