I was cleaning up two bowls of spilled Captain Crunch cereal, (which happened to be the family’s evening meal), when the phone rang.

“Hello, Debbie this is Darren from the Good Samaritan Nursing Home. I was wondering if you’d participate in our “Samaritan Idol” singing competition which we’re holding as part of a week-long event celebrating things of Hollywood?”
 
He went on to explain the role I would play as a contestant and while he talked on about the dates, times and rules, I thought, “Why not share my voice, with the elderly? They would really appreciate this kind of live entertainment. Isn’t life about loving our neighbors? And with the Good Samaritan Center being only two blocks from our home, I would be... loving my neighbors. I would be sharing my talent. I could give them songs that brought pleasure and hope. I would give of myself in a pure and selfless way. When Darren finished his presentation I whole-heartily responded, “Sign me up!”

What Darren failed to emphasis was that “Samaritan Idol” was a competition and there were cash prizes involved. This information was not brought to my attention on the first day of the event and so I, along with my four boys in tow, thoroughly enjoyed the day’s experience. The place was beautifully decorated with red carpets on the floor, movie posters on the walls, rolls of reel film hanging from the ceilings as streamers and velvet cordons directing the pathways of the residents. My boys quickly lined up to receive the complimentary orange slushy drink that was scooped into clear, plastic tropical glasses with an attached palm tree leaf on the bottom and an umbrella propped on top (maybe not so Hollywood but it was festive). 

I asked if I could be first to share my song and was granted second because Bob was just too nervous to wait. I sang Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy acappella and the packed audience consisting of residents, family, friends and employees seemed to really enjoy it, especially the residents. The judges applauded me as well and unanimously decided I should come back the next day and sing again. I had made it to “Sammywood.” I smiled as I left the building; it felt so good to share my voice with others. 

The next day I had another opportunity to leave my pajamas behind and wear a creative outfit/costume to perform in. My youngest son David accompanied me on day two as the other three were in school (Joey actually wanted to miss preschool to come— I guess the drinks were that good). It was upon my arrival that I was informed I was to perform sixth. I also found out that seven people had been eliminated by the judges the previous day and there were now ten contestants remaining. I learned the audience would vote off three singers with today’s competition but the most significant bit of information I received was… there were CASH PRIZES for the top three finishers. This changed everything for me. It was no longer about giving to others, loving my neighbors. No, now the performance was all about ME!
 
I think I should explain that I am no stranger to performing or competition. In fact, when contestant Bob saw me he said, “I figured you would be here.” I am known throughout International Falls as a “seasoned” performer where I also direct and judge events. My first gig in the Icebox was the county fair talent contest. (My sister-in-law, Danita, had signed me up the night before.) I sang, acappella, a medley of show songs I liked along with, I Know an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly. I won the first prize of $500.00 and was told, on the make shift stage in the middle of the muddy rodeo field, that I could now compete at the State Fair.

The next year I was in Grand Rapids, MN and again placed first, pocketed $400.00 and took my character, Esther from Meet Me in St. Louis, to the State Fair. I rose to the occasion and entered the Colgate Country Music Contest. I sang like Martina McBride and placed third. I sang my way through college. And after receiving my degree in theatre, I sang on some of the stages in Minneapolis and St. Paul. I sang in churches. I sang at fund raisers. I sang in community events. I could sing. And it seemed I was rewarded when I did. Now, I thought, I would add first place winner of “Samaritan Idol” to my list of accomplishments. 
 
When I was called to sing my selection of Somewhere Over the Rainbow, I engaged the audience by talking of memories of yesteryear, Judy Garland and bluebirds. I told them how happy I was to come and sing for them. But the audience didn’t seem as enthusiastic as the day before. I also noticed that the audience seemed to consist more of friends and family of the other contestants than of the actual residents of the nursing home.   My baby, David, was the only one from my fan club to cheer me on and one of the nurses had taken him out of the room to look at the fish tank.  
 
When all the contestants had finished performing we stood in a line and sang, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, while contestant Margaret played her harmonica. The staff collected the ballots and counted the vote. Then, one by one, we were called up and told if we had made it to the next round of the competition. When my name was called I left David holding the van keys, telling him we would leave shortly. Darren smiled at me as I approached the performing area and handed me a microphone.
 
He then said, “Debbie, you have a beautiful voice and we are so thankful that you were able to come by and share it with us today but the people voted and... we won’t be seeing you at tomorrow’s competition.” I stood there with a stunned smile on my face. I couldn’t speak at first. I felt silly, stupid and embarrassed. I wasn’t the winner; I hadn’t even made it to the finals!

I finally managed to say, “Well Darren, I’m just glad that you asked me and I’m always happy to sing a song.”

Yeah, right. I’m humiliated and I just want to run out of the center as fast as I can. I called out to David, “Come on Baby, give Mommy the keys and let’s go home.”

David looked at me and said, “Mommy, I don’t have keys. They go dooowwwnnnn the mailbox.”  

I looked and there, standing by the door, was an official United States Postal Service mailbox. David had somehow managed to climb up and drop the keys into the box. I now had to call the International Falls post office and have them retrieve my keys. I had to wait. I couldn’t escape. I sat on a bench and waited. I looked up and read the movie poster on the wall across from me, advertising the film, Sahara, with Matthew McConaughey, Penelope Cruz and Steve Zahn. Steve Zahn and I were in a musical theatre production together in college. We both had big solos and lots of applause. How ironic life is.
 
Later, when I decided that the lesson, (and the story to go with it), was worth my “Samaritan Idol” experience, I was quite happy. It’s good to be humbled. This sort of experience enables me to honestly look at myself and question why I do what I do and would I do it again? The answer is yes. The lesson I received was one that I had been taught before. But it is a truth that is often hard for me to accept because it takes a lot of maturity to do so. In my search for significance I need to realize that I am of value for who I am and not for what I do for myself but what I can give back and do for others. 
 
But when I’m good at something (like singing), and receive praise and awards for what I do (like singing), it is easy to fall into the trap of running after more praise and awards to validate who I am. I want to be recognized. I need to remember that when I focus only on myself nobody benefits, including self. But when I become a real giver, I receive not only happiness but real joy. And haven’t I always heard, “It is better to give than to receive?”

My friend Hope has warned me to, “Stay away from the three C’s: Comparison, Competition and Covetousness. Nothing can crumble your self-worth faster than those three.”
 
She’s right, of course. One night my husband Dan was giving a bath to our two youngest boys and he said that Joey was being a “stinker,” picking on his younger brother David, bugging him, teasing him, and poking him. Joey wanted to be the baby at that moment and he was facing the three C’s.

Finally, Dan just pulled Joey out of the tub, hugged him and said, “Joey, I love you too.” Upon hearing this, Joey began to sob. He just wanted to be recognized and affirmed for who he was. He needed to know he was loved for being Joey. 
 
I got lost for a little while; wanting to be recognized as, “Debbie the Wondrous Songbird,” while participating in “Samaritan Idol.” I lost my focus in what I was trying to accomplish and the event became all about me. Now, looking back it is easy to find the real reason and rewards of the two days I spent singing to my neighbors at the nursing home. The blue-haired lady in the wheelchair bobbing her head to the beat of my Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy and the frail gentleman leaning against his walker with his eyes closed while I sang Somewhere Over the Rainbow are memories I prize.

I love myself when I love my neighbor and haven’t I always heard, “Love your neighbor as yourself?” Yes, this is a lesson I’ll continue to learn as long as I have a song to share. Life isn’t all about me...oh, silly me.