I haven’t been to Mass since I was little girl. I remember wondering why we had to sit and kneel all the time, and not much more than that.

This Mass has me near tears as eighteen boys between the ages of six and eleven sing Ave Maria. I grab Simone’s hand and she squeezes back, equally enthralled.

Since I’m good at my job I’ve already gotten in touch with the coordinator, Mr. De Silva, so when the parishioners file out when it’s all over, easily chatting amongst themselves and greeting familiar faces, Simone and I rise from the second wooden pew to introduce ourselves in person.

Smiling he turns from telling the boys they’ve done well. “Stay put for just a moment.”

Instantly their well-behaved demeanor transforms into normal children as they break off into conversations amongst each other while he walks to us with his hand extended.

“Mr. De Silva, they were so beautiful!” Simone smiles, gently clasping his hand in both of hers.

“Thank you. We’re very proud of them.” He shakes my hand next. “Now, what you’re asking us to do is out of the ordinary but I’ve spoken with the parents since you called yesterday.”

“It was Sarah who spoke to you.” Simone motions to me so I can take over.

“So nice to meet you. I was in tears. They’re extraordinary.”

He smiles that serene smile of the spiritually evolved. “I’m glad you think so. We’re very proud of them.”

He clasps his hands over his rotund stomach and explains, “They listened to some of your music, Ms. Ross-Taylor, and were impressed it wasn’t the sordid kind.”

Simone smiles on a faint blush, “Oh no. My songs are about love and forgiveness.”

I almost gag.

She continues, “Which is why we need your help. Sarah told you that I made a mistake and angered the man who’s helping produce my next album. He’s very talented and I need him so much. I know it’s a lot to ask but, well, what did the parents say?”

His face changes to bemused. “Well, I really didn’t think they’d accept. I told them of your dilemma and found them to be unmoved.”

Then why are the children still here, I’m silently wondering.

His smile grows as he leans in and says in a lowered voice, “But it turns out fame is a huge draw for people these days. When they saw that video you have up, the one with over five million views, they changed their minds.”

Simone’s jaw slackens on a glance to me. I can read five million?! in her eyes.

She turns that excitement into effusive gratitude by grabbing his hands and shaking them like crazy. “Oh, thank you! I don’t know what to say! That’s amazing!”

He laughs and motions behind him. “Let’s teach them what you want to sing.”

“Do you know that song by Brenda Lee — I’m Sorry?”

He nods, letting his memory wander back in time. “Isn’t that a love song?”

“We’re not going to sing that far. I only want to sing the first lines and then have the boys harmonize it with some ahhhs and such? How does that sound?”

His eyes flicker as he pictures it and a pleased nod turns him around. “Boys, settle.” It’s impressive how quickly they turn to him and drop everything they were doing. To Simone he asks, “Would you like to help?”

She squeals in happiness. I would, too, if I knew how to do what she does and had this opportunity.

We both shimmy out of the pew because with the kneeling stools still down there’s very little space to walk. Then I take my usual position, standing back so she can do her thing.

“Boys, this is Simone. You remember her video?”

There’s lot of nodding and adorableness. I want to put them all in my pocket and keep them! One little boy who must be no older than seven is clapping his wrists together. There’s no sound. Just that cute, excited gesture.

“Hi guys,” she smiles. They’re clearly in awe of her. “This is what we’re going to do. I’m sorry…so sorry…that I was such a fool!” She stops singing and smiles, “You wanna try it with me?”

They nod and slowly join in as she starts over, catching up when they remember the words. After a few more tries, all the parents applaud from the pews around me.

My smile expands as the boys grin with happiness that they’re getting it now.

Simone goes through it a few more times until the boys are explained the harmonies. She demonstrates what each one should be. Mr. De Silva guides the boys, choosing the ones from his experience, who can hit each note best. It’s only a half hour of our time before they have it down perfectly, and it’s so beautiful I can hardly stand it.

“Thank you so much!” Simone exclaims, rushing forward to shake their little hands. The smallest one raises both his arms up high for a hug and she melts, giving him a big one. Turning to me, she touches her chest with a can you believe them look.

I am just beside myself.

She shakes Mr. De Silva’s hand and thanks him profusely. “We’ll see you in a few hours then?”

“Yes, after lunch and nap times.”

“Nap times,” Simone whispers. “Oh, that’s so adorable. See you soon! Thank you again.”

He’s beaming at her. Everyone who sees this side of my friend falls in love with her. You can’t help it. She just glows.

As she and I head out she waves to the parents. “Thank you everyone!”

A few moms come over to shake her hand and tell her how much they enjoyed Just For Me. One says with a shy smile, “I wish I could sing like you!”

“I know the feeling,” I laugh.

Simone isn’t very modest usually, but this setting has an impact on her. A deep red blush works its way into her cheeks. When the bright Atlanta sun hits our faces outside, she whispers, “I can’t believe that just happened.” She takes my hand. “I almost didn’t let you talk me into this.”

I nod and give her hand a quick squeeze before letting it go as we head down the stairs for our rental car. This time we got a Toyota. The money hasn’t come in for her Porsche just yet.

“Someday soon,” we said when we picked up this more practical car.

For the first time since Friday, I’m feeling like I can face what we’re about to do. “You’re going to have to say it’s your idea.”

A frown pierces her forehead and I love her for this hesitation. Especially since she’s been known to claim ideas that aren’t hers.

“If you’re going to pull this off, it has to have come from you.”

At the passenger door she looks over the car’s white hood with a little sadness. “I’ll always know it was you, Sarah. Thank you.”

Emotion tugs inside me. I nod and bite my lip, climbing in. “I’m just glad Justin said he’d make sure Jason would be home then.”

“I know!” The door clicks beside her as she slides her handbag between her feet. “Why didn’t he ask the reason? Justin seems like he’d be the more suspicious type.”

“I have no idea. You’d think my stalking him on Facebook would have made him grill me for the why. Who knows? He said he’ll do it and that’s all that matters.”

“Let’s eat! I’m nervous.”

Smiling at her, I turn the ignition. “Most people can’t eat when they’re like that.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” she mutters.

“No, you’re really not.”

I know for sure, I’ll be eating like a parakeet.