I will give my love an apple

Ever since I was about seven years old, I competed in my local music and arts festival. Piano solo, violin, choir, piano trio (with my brother and sister — we were usually the only competitors and therefore almost guaranteed first prize), and solo singing. There was even a competition for making animals out of raw vegetables, which I particularly loved because my mum and I would completely let our imaginations run wild.

But the singing competition was always my favourite. Listening to all the different voices and interpretations fascinated me, even at that age.

By my final years of primary school — so around the age of ten — my mum had already realised how much I loved music. Even though I definitely didn’t practise enough (a story for another day…), she could see there was potential there, and she decided to put me forward for a music boarding school.

My teachers at the time, however, were not exactly supportive. In fact, they refused to write my letters of recommendation needed for the application. My mum ended up writing it herself — which, looking back now, I actually find rather lovely.

So, without much support from school and no longer having lessons, I found myself preparing for the festival mostly alone. That year, we had been given a folk song to interpret for the singing competition: I Will Give My Love an Apple.

I think it’s important to mention here that I don’t come from a musical family. I’m sure if my mum had had the opportunity, she would have loved to pursue music herself, but neither of my parents ever learned an instrument. What my mum did have, though, was creativity, imagination, and a love for theatre and performance — something she had explored in her own youth. Through her, that spirit found its way into all of us children. We all dipped our toes into music in one way or another.

I was simply the one who decided to jump in completely — to see whether I would sink or swim.

The festival itself lasted around two weeks and included countless different competitions and performances. One day, while I was getting ready for my violin class, my mum wandered into one of the older singing categories to listen for a while.

And then — pure luck.

One of the older singers happened to be performing the exact same song that had been set for our younger category: I Will Give My Love an Apple. My mum not only heard the performance, but also listened carefully to the judges’ comments afterwards — what they liked, what they were looking for, what mattered technically.

Armed with this highly classified festival intelligence, she rushed back to me, and we got to work.

I must have entered that competition several times before that year, and never once had I won first prize.

Until then.

That song still holds enormous significance for me. That moment carried me through many darker periods later on, especially when I doubted my musical abilities or questioned whether I truly could peruse music professionally.

Sometimes all it takes is the right information, the right mindset, and someone who believes in you at exactly the right moment.

This one’s for you, Maw.