My little brother, Daniel, used to watch Sister Act every day. His language skills have never been stellar, but he can quote the movie and you can understand it.
I watched the movie with my kids yesterday. It is the first time I have watched it in a while. I cried like a baby. My skin tingled as the once terrible choir pulled together to sing beautiful hymns, Catholic style and . . . well, not Catholic style.
A little later in the movie each member of the choir has a little solo. None of their voices are great. They are all average singers. But when they are given a director who knows how to unite their voices, a miracle happens. Was I crying because the music was so lovely or because "lost" souls came in off the street or because of the sweet old ladies singing out a life of commitment? Was it because they sing so many of the songs my own mother used to sing?
Or, was I crying because I miss my little Danny singing and dancing along?
No. It was the old ladies.