Thoughts on Susan Boyle

Amidst world-wide tumult, recession and uncertainty, a pudgy, dowdy, ordinary looking woman appeared on the stage of “Britain’s Got Talent,” on April 11, 2009.

Virtually unknown to anyone outside her small Scottish village, by all appearances, this would be quite the gaff.

Bullied as a child, she grew up with several learning disability’s. “Simple Susan” as she was known.

She worked only a few months, and lives in a council house (government sponsored), with her 10 year old cat, “Pebbles.” She took care of her mother, who died at the age of 91 in 2007.

No one thought she’d amount to anything.

The music began to play. The judges already had a pre-conceived notion, that she would squawk on stage.

What happened next, was truly remarkable.

The judge’s faces went completely blank. Was this not the same woman? Her voice betrayed her appearance. Instead of a puny, clucking sound, they heard no squawks. A beautiful voice emerged from this 47 year old woman. “Les Miserables” — “I Dreamed a Dream” with full bravado.

Could it be? Yes! A precious gift had just been given to the world.

I have watched the videos several times. She never disappoints. She sings from the heart. Deep, rich, emotionally heart-wrenching songs. For her semi-final, she sang “Memory” for Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Cats.”

Songs that touch the very soul of man. Embeds itself in one’s essence, and does not diminish with time.

God granted to us the gift. Susan Boyle’s voice.

Cats – Memory Lyrics

Midnight – not a sound from the pavement.
Has the moon lost her memory,
She is smiling alone.
In the lamp light, the withered leaves collect at my feet,
And the wind begins to moan.

(Memory – all alone in the moonlight.
I can smile at the old days,
I was beautiful then.
I remember the time I knew what happiness was.
Let the memory live again.)

Every street light seems to beat a fatalistic warning.
Someone mutters and the street lamp gutters,
and soon it will be morning.

Daylight, I must wait for the sunrise.
I must think of a new life,
And I mustn’t give in.
When the dawn comes tonight will be a memory too,
And a new day will begin.

(Burnt out ends of smoky days,
the stale cold smell of morning.
The street lamp dies, another night is over,
another day is dawning.)

Touch me, it’s so easy to leave me
All alone with the memory
Of my days in the sun.
If you touch me, you’ll understand what happiness is.
Look, a new day has begun.

(consulted in this article:

Wayno Guerrini
May 24, 2009