July 2000 was a monumental time in my life. I was with a small young men's choir visiting Vienna. My friends and I were seniors in high school. Our choir director, who had been teaching many of us for four years, was dying of breast cancer back at home and could not join us. Laurie Guttormsen was very dear to all of us. Without her there, it was mutiny. You can imagine: 20 high school boys, a few chaperone parents. Some of the boys were sneaking out with girls they met, others were drinking at the local bars.

But we were there to sing. And not just to sing in an international choir competition. We were there to sing for Laurie. We were there to show the world what Laurie had taught us, what gift she had passed to us so selflessly while fighting cancer for the last 10 years.

We had no real director among us--one of the parents flailed his arms around a bit but it was really just for show. That was fine for 3 of our songs, but the last two were special. Many songs come and go every year but these two are the torch of the choir. They were sung every single year. They epitomized our choir. They had everything a choral piece should: incredible lyrics, beautiful melody, great dynamics, deep meaning.

First was the Ave Maria by Franz Biebl. This piece has a three parts choir and three soloists. For this song, we couldn't imagine anybody but Laurie conducting us. So we let Laurie conduct us. There was no physical body in front of us, but we all imagined her there. At the end, the audience was so stunned they forgot to clap for what seemed like eternity.

Last was The Prayer of the Children by Kurt Bestor and Sam Cardon. For this song, we had Laurie's conducting protégé, Chris Noel, do the conducting. The lyrics can be found at the end of this post and they speak for themselves.

We gave our souls on that stage.

We won first place for men's choirs in that competition, and received the second highest score across all choirs in the entire competition. Laurie died a few months after we came back with the trophy.

Amazingly, Google has an archived article from 2000 describing this event in our local newspaper: http://tinyurl.com/youngmensensemble

Can you hear the prayer of the children
on bended knee, in the shadow of an unknown room?
Empty eyes with no more tears to cry
turning heavenward toward the light.

Cryin' Jesus help me
to see the mornin' light of one more day,
but if I should die before I wake,
I pray my soul to take.

Can you feel the hearts of the children
aching for home, for something of their very own.
Reaching hands with nothing to hold onto
but hope for a better day, a better day.

Cryin' Jesus help me
to feel the love again in my own land,
but if unknown roads lead away from home,
give me loving arms, 'way from harm.

Can you hear the voice of the children
softly pleading for silence in their shatterd world?
Angry guns preach a gospel full of hate,
blood of the innocent on their hands.

Cried Jesus, help me
to feel the sun again upon my face?
For when darkness clears, I know you're near,
bringing peace again.

Dali čǔje te sve dječje molitve?
Can you hear the prayer of the children?