It was the eye contact that made Vincent stop, stop and think. In a line of leggy blond hopefuls on Gold Sands Stage, this one young lady stood out.
Vincent called out the numbers to leave, with a mumbled "Good luck". That left five knock-dead gorgeous young women, each one filled with hope and big dreams. Vincent took a big drag on his cigar and asked her, "Whatcha do, missy?"
Some had sung, some had danced, and some did both. Okay. Good. Not bad. Awful. And then and there she was, this woman with bold green eyes, almost defiant.
Belinda McFadden took a deep breath. This is it...this is it. I can do this., I know this. With that, the words of "Ave Maria" filled the shabby lounge, filling it with astonishing power and purity. Vincent dropped the cigar.
He leaned forward, his arms resting on the back of the chair in front of him. Mother of God. Oh, sweet Mother of God... He inhaled. For one so jaded, so filled with cynicism, Vincent was washed clean a voice unlike he had ever heard. He wept.
"Who ARE you?" he gasped.
Belinda handed him a folded and creased envelope, carried all the way from Illinois to Nevada in her bra, too afraid to lose it. Vincent accepted it and nodded as he read the letter from 4,000 miles away, too afraid to lose it.
Vincent exhaled, nodding, as he read the letter. "I'll do it, Kid. You got it."
What did the letter say? Who was the author? Who gave Belinda the letter? Why was it so important?Andre' Rieu w/Mariusa and Johann Strauss
This is a repost from 2014. We should find chances to listen to music such as this.