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SANCTUARY!

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I pull open the heavy oak-stained door and immediately a burst of cool air rushes past me. Waunakee’s vocal director Mrs. Petroff can be heard rustling papers around in her office, preparing for her next lesson. The towering ceiling reaches up towards space while a faint flowery smell lofts through the air. A perfect retreat from the daily stresses of life, the choir room welcomes everyone who needs a break and has a desire to hear great music.
There is a certain feeling one gets when connected with great music. A window into the soul, great music helps people understand human feelings. Not many people know the walls of the choir room can sing. If one listens hard enough, music from past years fills the room and warms the soul. I walk over to the rough, plastic chairs and sit down allowing my mind to relax. After a few minutes I close my eyes and breathe. Immediately I am greeted with perfidious and loving sounds alike. Songs of joy, sorrow, excitement, and content rush through the room. Hushed chords whisper in my ears while I enjoy a few minutes of peace.
Mrs. Petroff finishes her work and walks towards me bringing a warm, welcoming aura with her. We exchange amicable greetings and talk about vocal artists or life in general. As we are both busy people these moments do not last long but can make an entire day worthwhile.
Shortly after our conversation ends, a piano springs to life playing a benevolent tune. Someone from the orchestra grabs a deep-colored guitar with a wide fingerboard and starts playing a folksy tune along with the pianist. Waves of feeling fill the room like a warm cyclone and I escape from reality once again. Others sense the warmth and drift through the door. Friends arrive in pairs or alone and greet me. There is never a shortage of kind words and encouragement. People wandering through the choir room are encouraging and supportive because we know that some things are exclusively achieved through teamwork. Everyone begins singing and yodeling and all the problems of the world melt away. Our sound rings through the high ceilings and extends into the heavens.
Unfortunately all good things must come to an end. The ten minute bell rings and everyone drifts back to reality. We gather backpacks and books and head out through the heavy oak-stained door. I pause for a moment and peer into the room, never wanting to forget this calm sanctuary. The three minute bell rings, pulling on my sleeve, telling me it is time to go. I float across the school to my least favorite class with a grin on my face.



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