By Theo Coggin

The dark and stormy night on Monday night did not stop the choir from giving their all! After all, it was the last formal practice before the concert this coming Sunday afternoon (19 April 2026).

Choir director, Ruth Coggin, put everyone through their paces. She was unrelenting in her demand that we continue to do better! But that was normal.

Quietly sitting at the back of the choir near their Mum, Zoe Sevitz, were two children, Jamie (10) and Aden (6). Little boys with attentive faces and bright eyes. Entranced by the singing.

They had accompanied their mum to a couple of previous practices during the school holidays. I had always noticed that they listened well while getting on with one or other activity they had brought with them to keep them occupied.

It turns out they had listened well on these previous occasions. Monday night’s practice proved to be special.

Ruth was the only one who could see them clearly during this final practice before the dress rehearsal and concert. As we sang the Hallelujah Chorus, Handel’s amazing masterpiece, she saw them from the conductor’s rostrum mouthing the words “Hallelujah! Hallelujah!”.

Most members of the choir were oblivious to their enthusiastic participation. That changed as we were all departing when many passed by the two little boys waiting with their mum for their lift home. I had missed them as I passed by to load my car with choir equipment.

And then, suddenly, I heard what sounded to me in the dark, cold rain-filled night, little voices. Little, but clear and crisp. As if from another world.

“Hallelujah!” – “Hallelujah!” –  like a benediction beckoning.

“Hallelujah!” – “Hallelujah!”   I realised it was the little boys who had been our unrecognised audience as we practiced.  More than that, since as I listened, I realised the impact the JBC has in their singing. Their own confident rendition of Handel’s great Chorus spoke to me of how all children can learn to love music across all genres. Exposed to it by their parents, relatives, friends, and peers.

I walked back slowly to fetch another piece of equipment, this time past them and their Mum and stopped to chat. Their faces were beaming. And they shyly accepted my praise.

Long may the children sing! Long may we all sing in a world in which the beauty of music is drowned out by so many other discordant noises.

I walked away, their words following me…. “Hallelujah.”

(Names used with permission.)

• Bring friends to Sunday’s concert, and you too will be able to sing along!