“Miracle” is a word we use to describe a result that is so unexpectedly good that it seemed to have been impossible to attain. It is a way of looking at things, not an objective statement about the universe.
Faith changed my life. Or, you could say, I changed my life through Faith. Either way, it was a miracle.
A young, nearly blind woman named Annie Sullivan traveled from Boston to Alabama with a Faith that she could teach language to a barely controlled six-year-old child who had been blind and deaf since she was only a year old. There was no evidence that she could succeed. The undertaking seemed hopeless. No one had ever done it before. Then, through dogged effort, Ms. Sullivan succeeded. Her pupil, Helen Keller, went on to become a scholar, writer and inspiration to the world. That was a miracle too.
Einstein said that there are two ways of looking at things. One is that nothing is a miracle. The other is that everything is. I cannot explain the universe, or life, or why I am here apart from the biological processes and their predicates, which I cannot explain in any sense. It is not that I believe in miracles but that I see things that make me grateful to be alive, and call them miracles.
Real
True Narratives
Book narratives:
- Sarah Miller, Miss Spitfire: Reaching Helen Keller (Atheneum, 2007), “tells the story of Annie Sullivan, the young woman who battled beliefs of the time and fought with every ounce of energy she had to give Helen Keller the gift of language.”
Technical and Analytical Readings
Photographs
Documentary and Educational Films
Imaginary
Fictional Narratives
Poetry
Did you hear about the rose that grew
from a crack in the concrete?
Proving nature's law is wrong it
learned to walk with out having feet.
Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams,
it learned to breathe fresh air.
Long live the rose that grew from concrete
when no one else ever cared.
[Tupac Shakur, “The Rose that Grew from Concrete”]
Music: Composers, artists, and major works
When our daughter was born, we purchased our first video camera. The first recording on that camera is of our newborn daughter in her mother's arms, as the resolution theme from Johannes Brahms' Symphony No. 1 in C minor, Op. 68 (1877) plays in the background. For me, nothing could better express the meaning of miracles than that little scene. I did not plan it this way, but if I could choose one scene from my life to represent my joy - my triumph of patience and Faith - this would be it. That I have it on tape is dumb luck. The reward for Faith is rarely immediate. Fittingly, Brahms took at least fourteen years to complete the symphony.
- Throughout the first three movements, the protagonist struggles, trying on a new theme each time. The first movement is the unrest and agitation of youth. The second movement tells of sustained (andante sostenuto) loneliness and longing - for comfort and companionship. In the third movement, undertones of self-pity have vanished and become grace (un poco allegretto gracioso). The protagonist has arrived at a tenuous inner peace. But wait - at the end of this brief movement, touches of loneliness and longing return. The protagonist has adjusted, his star perhaps having escaped his grasp (Paul Simon, "Some Folks’ Lives Roll Easy" [lyrics]), and is for the most part, but not entirely, content.
- The fourth movement opens deeply unsettled. Emotions stir from within. What seemed tentatively resolved is not. The inner truce is broken. What is happening? The storm mounts from within, then quiets. Then suddenly, like angels of salvation, a chorus of French horns sounds the theme announcing resolution. A flute picks up the theme, then is accompanied by the French horns. Disparate voices have one message and one aim. More brass join, followed by the French horns again. The storm returns. Something is about to happen, but what? The brass are now still. Then, after a moment of silence, a chorus of cellos announces the final, joyful resolution, followed by a chorus of woodwinds, then the violins like an army of angels. The protagonist never knew such joy, or thought it possible. The symphony concludes with the protagonist rushing joyfully from one thing to another, like the giddy Ebenezer Scrooge awoken from his dream and so enamored of the newly remade world that he does not know what to hug first. Near the end of the movement and symphony, the resolution theme reappears. The protagonist is at last truly content. The symphony ends with a cacophonous rush of joy. Great recorded performances of Brahms’ Symphony No. 1 were conducted by: Weingartner in 1939; Karajan in 1978; Abbado in 1991; Furtwängler in 1951; Klemperer in 1956; Jochum in 1976; Kurt Sanderling in 1971; Gardiner in 2007; Iván Fischer in 2009; Blomstedt in 2022; Nézet-Séguin in 2024.
Other works:
- Alexander Scriabin, Piano Sonata No. 2 in G-sharp minor, Op. 19, “Sonata-fantasy” (1898) (approx. 11-13’): the dreams and aspirations of the first movement (Andante) are transformed from fantasy to reality in the ebullient second movement (Presto). Scriabin wrote: “. . . the first section of the Andante is a calm southern night on the seashore, the movement of the deep sea is given in the development, while an illuminating E major passage offers the first rays of moonlight. The agitated Presto movement is a rendition of a terrifying ocean storm.” One critic observes that “the sea is an ancient symbol for the psyche, and the Sonata represents an early example of Scriabin’s later tendency to equate the phenomena around him with his own interior life”. The second movement represents a sudden advancement into another state of Being.
- Jacques Offenbach, La Princesse de Trébizonde (1869) (approx. 123’) (history) (score): “Prince Raphaël, played by a mezzo in drag, falls in love with what he believes to be a waxwork of the fabled Princess of Trebizond, only to discover that the object of his affections is, in fact, the very real Zanetta, who works in a circus run by her family. Raphaël is soon at loggerheads with his dictatorial father Casimir, but things are thrown into real disarray when Zanetta and her relatives win the lottery and acquire both an unexpected fortune and sudden status.”
Albums:
- William Goldstein, “The Miracle Worker” (52’), original soundtrack recording for the film about Helen Keller and Annie Sullivan
Music: songs and other short pieces
- Andrew Peterson, "Dancing in the Minefields" (lyrics)
- Paul Simon, “Mother and Child Reunion” (lyrics)
- Bette Midler, “The Rose” (lyrics)
Visual Arts
Film and Stage
- The Music Man: Harold Hill travels the salesman’s circuit into a sleepy Iowa town one summer, planning to dupe the bumpkins with a phony scheme for a boys’ band. He tells the boys that if they “think” the music, they can play it. Everywhere he goes, he preaches his cynical gospel. By the sheer force of putting one foot in front of the other, cynicism is transformed into creative Faith, both for the town and for “Professor” Hill, and a miracle happens.