WORDS FROM JOANNE DOYLE
A fresh white blouse. Navy uniform, pale blue tie. Wooden folding chairs. Familiar faces around me as we file into the hall for morning assembly.
Outside the tall window, the trees cast delicate shadows as the morning sun finds its way through the leaves.
It is a familiar start to an ordinary school day. The headmistress speaks. We have done this many times before. The piano begins.
“Ave Maria. Gratia plena.”
And I sing. Something happens. As my voice rises, something gently swells within me, delicate yet powerful. I am filled with a profound sense of beauty, simplicity and belonging. I feel connected to something much greater than myself, a loving presence. It feels like grace.
Even then, I sense that something unusual is happening, something I don’t quite have the words to explain. I understand it as an encounter with God. There is joy, but also humility: a sense that life itself is a gift, and that the instinctive response is somehow to offer myself in return. I have no idea that I will remember this moment for decades.
Years later, as a therapeutic counsellor, I find myself accompanying people through moments of joy, loss and change. And now, with Singers of Solace, I offer my voice alongside others at some of life’s most poignant moments. What I experienced so vividly as a teenager has become woven into who I am: a quieter understanding of connection, service and the gift of being alongside others.
Perhaps this is what music has given me: a way to receive, and a way to give.
