Non nobis, Domine, sed nomini tuo da gloriam.

My high school choir teacher died this week. Cancer killed her. Years and years of fighting. Chemo. Wigs. Weakness. Her husband is confined to a wheelchair. One of her sons is known as "a disappointment." She taught all of the choirs for the school - elementary, advanced elementary (Wed. afternoons), middle school, high school, and a capella. She was also involved in church choirs. Before Mrs. T, choir was held in a beat up trailer behind the school (band still is), and had been for years. The school focused on their atheletics; the fine arts program existed because all schools need a fine arts program. It is a small high school - around 200 children. Mrs. T got between 70 and 80 of them to school an hour early every school day, and several other days beside. The choir was moved inside, and eventually the room (with the technical capacity of 30) was revamped with more acoustic friendly tiling. The guys wore tuxedos. She got the school to help fund an annual choir trip - to New York, Toronto, Orlando, San Antonio... She continued teaching until less than a month ago. I can't picture the place without her. More importantly, she loved the Lord. She was passionate, dedicated, and tireless. I never saw her without a smile. Her patience with me gave me the courage to continue to sing wherever i can; to volunteer for church choirs. I know how much she means to so many people, and how her example inspired. Now she is dead. Life goes on. Her funeral is hundreds and hundreds of miles away. My brothers still need to be teased and my papers still need to be written. She is dead.