My heritage included a faith-based childhood, steeped in stories and song. Our tradition was to sing a cappella, voices lifted in harmony with no instruments. Mom and I sang soprano, both of my sisters sang alto, Dad and Larry could sing bass or tenor as needed.
As young adults mom and dad had attended winter Bible school, with classes taught through the cold months when there was little work available. The courses rotated among the Mennonite churches throughout the southern Saskatchewan and Alberta region.
The classes included Bible history and voice, among other things. The students were taught to sight-read the notes in the church hymnals. The older hymnals used “shape notes.” I tried to understand the concept. Mom explained it as being of the “do, re, mi” scale, as well as the regular notes.
Years later when our family attended services in any of those churches we heard strong, confident voices singing the harmony; a huge choir with each note crystal clear.
My grandmother always said she couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket with a lid on it! She sang anyway, a thin soprano. Her favourite hymns were What a Friend We Have in Jesus and Savior Like a Shepherd Lead Us and many others that inspired faith and confidence in times of trouble.
My grandfather sang bass. I remember attending a mid-week prayer meeting in Sundre in a tiny house on the main street, the home of Dan and Anne Miller. I was sitting with grandpa on the couch listening to his strong voice. Even as a young child I was aware that he wasn’t singing the melody like I was.
In our little country church mom or dad led the singing, using a pitch pipe to get the right note for us to begin in the same key. I can see dad standing at the front. He blew once on the pipe for the soprano note, and then hummed it. He then hummed the alto, tenor and bass. Once we had our part we began. It sounded amazing.
Larry went off to Bible college. Along with his teachings in Bible history, he also received more training in voice. He was in choir and later a part of a singing ensemble that toured Western Canada. The group promoted Christian values and highlighted the college for future students.
We three sisters were encouraged to sing at church services, in the little Bergen Missionary Church. Carol says dad offered our talents. Judy played the piano. We were occasionally called on to be the special music. Years later Carol took the opportunity to conscript dad into singing with her when she entertained at the lodge or at the long-term care unit of the hospital. He hadn’t realized just how unnerving it was.
Carol learned to play guitar, took some additional lessons and enjoyed mentoring with several older musicians. Her vocal abilities have grown over the years and she has become a frequent guest performer in the community. Her early training, like mine, began at home and at church.
When we were still able to sing with mom at long-term care, we selected familiar old songs, from the hymnal. A few years ago mom still would sing along, even though she no longer talked very much. Soon she just listened and tapped out the tune.
Now she responds very little. One day I arrived after work to sit with her in the kitchenette. Her wheelchair was pushed up to the window so she could watch outside, if she were able to connect with anything around her.
As I waited for her supper to arrive, I sat beside her, thinking my own thoughts. She patted my hand and then said “aren’t you going to sing?” Absolutely! I sang several songs she used to enjoy but there was no further response.
Obviously the music still spoke to something deep within her. The melodies, the words of faith, stirred and comforted mom. So we sing on.
- Joyce Hoey is a longtime Gazette columnist
