Sing Me a Song

    As I filled the teakettle and sat on the side of her bed, Nellie suddenly demanded, "Sing something."
   
     I wasn't sure I had heard correctly. "What?"
   
     "Sing me a song," she repeated.
   
     "What kind of song? A Christmas song? Any particular song? Do you want me to sing in English or Russian?" If she chose Russian, my repertoire would be severely limited.
   
     "It doesn't matter," she said. "Just any song."
   
     So I sang. It was December, and the songs most on my mind were Christmas carols, so I began with one of my favorites--What Child Is This? I love to sing, but I do NOT love to sing when I know people are listening. It took me a few bars to overcome my shyness, but, after all, I love to sing. Nellie listened quietly, keeping time with her good hand and humming along rather tunelessly.
   
     "I like that song. I remember singing it in church before my stroke. Sing me another," she commanded. And so I sang on. Silent Night, It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, Away In a Manger, We Three Kings...all the verses I could recall. When I finished We Three Kings, she asked what it was about. "That's a pretty song. I've never heard it before. Sing it again."
   
     "Again? The same song?" I was getting a little tired, but Nellie was insistent.
   
     "Yes, yes, again."
   
     I sang We Three Kings one more time, and finally Nellie was satisfied. As my one-woman-caroling session came to an end, I wondered how I would feel if I were suddenly cut off from the songs I love so much--if I could no longer sing because I couldn't remember any words.