Mom's Greatest Gift.

Lately, as I bask in the happiness of a perfectly wonderful life, I think back to how I got here, and I realize that it all started very early.

When I was about seven or eight, and my mom had breast cancer, my little brother and I would go to the hospital with her on Sundays while she got her chemotherapy. Since she was a librarian, and a good mom, she would read to us. A LOT. And during those Sundays in the hospital, she read to me a story called The Phantom of the Opera. I fell in love.

The Opera House, and Paris, became this magical far away kingdom that existed only in my dreams. I remember in 3rd grade, instead of playing on the monkey bars at recess, I would form a group of my closest friends to meet me under a big tree in the field. I brought my mom's "Behind the Scenes--The Phantom" book from the musical on Broadway with Sarah Brightman and Michael Crawford...which had all the lyrics to all the songs in the back(!!) And I'd conduct my little drama crew to perform the songs with me (as Christine, of course) every day.

The next year, after mom died, the Phantom started to become this "thing" between us.

In high school I spent all of my after-school time on the stage. Right around my 16th birthday, our drama group was going to New York to see some shows on Broadway!! (Every drama kid's dream come true.) The class had to vote between Miss Saigon and...The Phantom of the Opera. (Obviously, this was my mom's sweet sixteen birthday present to me.) Except the class ended up voting for Miss Saigon (idiots) and I was crushed. Then, somehow, a week later we were told that Miss Saigon was full and we would be going to see the Phantom after all. I spent my 16th birthday seeing my favorite show in the most amazing place in the world.

After high school, you are told that you need to find a career that is sturdy and successful and will make you lots of money. I didn't really know what I wanted to do, or how to pay for college and so I joined the Army, and spent the next four years being very serious and trying to do all the things you're supposed to do as an adult. I was determined to create a secure, normal future for myself. And I did just that. At 22 years old I landed a government job making 72K a year. I worked from 9-5 and commuted for an hour on the metro. I wore flats for the commute and changed into heels in my cubicle. I was the perfect example of a young professional. And I was absolutely miserable.

So one day I threw it all away and packed up my car and drove to Texas, where I was determined to follow my heart and go back in time to the two things I had always loved...acting, and French.

My third year in college, I was able to study abroad in Paris for a month. Immediately, I found my way to the Opera Garnier, no longer in a little kid's fantasy, but the real life thing. The metro stop is called Opéra, and when I got off, my heart was beating fast. The Opera house is directly in front of the metro stop, which I did not know at the time. All I remember is that while I was climbing the seemingly 1 billion steps up from the metro, the Opera house slowly started to appear, getting bigger and bigger as I climbed in all of it's golden glory. I stood across from it feeling very very small and trying not to cry. If ever there was a time in my life that I felt my mom was with me, it was exactly right at that moment.

come to me, angel of music

And so, here I am, years later, living in France, and loving every single second I'm alive. I'm not sure if the moral of this story is to read to your children, or to study a foreign language...if it's both, or something completely different, but I do know one thing for certain. Learning French has changed my life more than anything else has...more than four years in the Army, more than $72,000, more than failed relationships and heartbreaks or anything else that has happened. It has opened doors for me that I never dreamed existed before. It has enabled me to see things I never thought I would see, learn things about humanity and the world that I never thought I would know.

Here I am, at 28, with the whole wide world in front of me, more hopeful that I've ever been...and it's all because my mom decided, right before she died, to read me a book called The Phantom of the Opera. 


It was the best thing she could have done for me.