The girl who loved to sing

There once was a girl whose favorite thing to do was sing. She would sing in the shower, she would sing to her dog, she would sing while she did her chores, and she would sing herself to sleep. Singing was her prayer, her meditation, her entertainment, and her comfort. 

She was just an average singer, and she was ok with that. She didn't need to be in the spotlight, and most of the time, her singing was tolerated by others. Other times, though, some people criticized her singing. 

"All you ever do is sing. Why don't you get another hobby?" one girl asked her.

"You know you'll never be famous," another one said in a snide tone. "There are so many other people that sing better than you."

The girl started to wonder if maybe she was singing too much. Or maybe she wasn't singing the right way. Surely she should be better at singing if she put this much time into it. She decided to get a vocal coach and improve her singing. Her shower singing was replaced with Do-Re-Mi scales. She practiced lip trills, which frightened the dog. Every night when she went to bed, instead of singing, she did breath exercises with her diaphragm until she eventually faded into sleep.

She wasn't sure if any of this was helping. Her voice no longer sounded like her own. She was determined to make progress, though. She started singing in public and welcomed the applause, even if it was from friends and family and a few random strangers. She entered competitions and judged herself against others. To save her voice for the times that mattered, she stopped singing throughout the day and only sang at her scheduled times. She started to resent singing because she thought she wasn't good at it. Singing felt like a chore.

She woke up on the morning of the county fair, where she was supposed to sing later that day. Her throat was dry, her voice was hoarse, and she knew that singing was out of the question. That's when she was suddenly struck by an amazing realization. Not being able to sing, it became the only thing she wanted to do. She didn't want to sing Do-Re-Mi scales or test her vocal range, she just wanted to sing in the shower, with whatever song seemed to fit the mood. She wanted to serenade her dog while he wagged his tail and rolled around at her feet. 

Even though she was disappointed that she couldn't sing at the county fair, it was the best thing that could have happened that day. She realized that day that her singing was a gift -- and not because of the effort that she put into it, but just because she enjoyed doing it. That was all that mattered, and she intended to keep it that way.