Vienna Boy's Choir

January 25, 2008

I must have been seven. Seven, when Mrs. Sternberg brought us into her classroom and made us sit on peach plastic chairs that lined the perimeter of her windowless room with the red carpet. Mrs. G clef, a stuffed animal mouse, who had become our class mascot, was probably sitting placidly by the piano as a record rotated on the turn style. I can remember the voices coming from the raspy speakers sounded like angels. Beautiful heavenly voices wafted through the air. Mrs. Sternberg had probably heard this very song five times that day, but in her eyes, it was like the first. She was in awe and sitting there in that flourescent lit room, I mimicked her excitement.

"What beautiful women singing those songs," one student must have exclaimed. But no, they were not women, they were not girls. What we were listening to was the Vienna's Boys Choir. How did Mrs. Sternberg know that for so many boys in Greene New York, singing wasn't something you did. By one look of her eyes and the way in which she spoke about them, we were all mesmerized. In four minutes, she taught farm kids and especially farm boys from Greene, New York, that it was not only completely okay to sing in a high pitched soprano voice, but that it was heavenly. I can still picture how we all felt in her room. I can recall Thanksgiving celebrations, Halloween spook songs and learning the notes hopping on the tape lined carpet. I know what it meant to be in her East River Singers, though I never was a member. I loved Mrs. Sternberg and as result my love for music grew.



I thought of Mrs. Sternberg as I attended The European Middle Level Educators Conference in Vienna. When our tour bus pulled up to the residence hall and we weaved our way up the spiral staircase to have private concert with the legendary boys choir. As I listened to those angelic voices fill the domed roof room, goosebumps covered my arms. Tears welled in my eyes as Danny Boy made me think of my mom. Danny Boy was one of Mom's father's favorite songs. Yet, it was with Ave Maria that I felt as if their voices were hand delivering a message to heaven stating my gratitude.