Children and the mysteries of music
By Elsemarie Norby (April, 13, 2006)


Plato said: "Musical training is a more potent instrument than any other, because rhythm and harmony find their way into the secret places of the soul."

Music and its effects on children have been the subjects of great investigation over the past few decades, as though this is something new! We are only rediscovering what the ancients knew: Music has the power to affect all of us profoundly. When we involve ourselves with children in any endeavor, we never know what the impact will be. Some of our most memorable experiences come at moments when we do not anticipate the results of our actions. Once in a while, we are privileged to see our effect on others. Here is a story that will live forever in my memory.

Several years ago, I had a choir at Casa Hogar Don Bosco, the girl's orphanage on Sollano. It was before the younger girls moved up to Santa Julia, so there were about 70 girls of all ages. 

One small boy also lived with them-Alberto, age four. He had been left at the orphanage as a baby with Down Syndrome. They took him in, and he was raised by so many mothers and sisters!

It was Chamber Music Festival time in August, and I wanted to take the choir girls to hear the Ying Quartet. I'd told them about this kind of music, prepared them for what they would hear, and gave them flyers with pictures of the four Yings. The girls became "groupies," hanging pictures of the musicians on their walls and drooling over the boys. (The Ying Quartet is made up of four siblings: Timothy, David, Phillip and Janet.) I'd made arrangements with the festival office to bring this group and sit in the second balcony, reserved for students. 

When I arrived at the orphanage that night, about 30 girls were waiting with great excitement. So was Alberto. His big sisters were all going somewhere special, and he wanted to go, too. "Why not," I thought. I had no worry about this sweet child with all of us. We all held hands walking to the theater, climbed the stairs and sat down. An usher had objected to "Berto's" presence, saying he'd make noise, but I ignored her. 

Berto chose to sit on the floor, his little legs dangling between the posts of the railing and his hands holding on tight. He watched the performance and never moved a muscle. We had to pry him away during intermission so he could move about. I'd planned a big surprise for the girls: to meet the Yings on stage after the concert.

After the marvelous music, they were puzzled while we waited for the orchestra area to empty. I steered them down the aisle toward the stage. The Yings had drawn the curtain so they wouldn't be seen. It was a joyful moment. The girls were made to feel welcome and posed for lots of pictures. I noticed Berto walking through the forest of legs, seeming to look for something in particular. Then he spotted Timothy, the first violinist. Without hesitation, he walked up to him, took Timothy's hand in both of his and gently pulled it to his lips. He kissed the hand for several seconds, then looked up at Timothy, his eyes sparkling with tears. 

Even those of us who saw this will never know exactly what happened to Berto. But something did-and it found its way into the secret place of his soul. Berto is now ten years old and lives at the boy's orphanage, Mexiquito. 


Elsmarie Norby is the founder/codirector of ANYEL, a music program provided free to hundreds of children in their own classrooms and to the children at C.A.S.A. and the orphanages. She is a pianist, choral director and lecturer on many aspects of music. She can be reached at elsmarienorby@yahoo.com  or see the ANYEL website at www.anyel.com