
Musicians on Royal Street
Even before getting out of bed in the morning, I hear music punctuating the other sounds of New Orleans waking up for a new day. One man sings, unaccompanied at the entrance to a store across the street. Soon a horn or two is heard. Maybe guitars. By lunch time, no matter where you walk, you are entertained by the gift of musicians sharing their talent and passion.
Passsersby throw coins or a bill in the box or hat or instrument case lying open nearby. But the musicians play, paid or not. Their gift is my grace. My morning or noon or night prayer, reminding me to give thanks for life spirit that is freely given, not only by the street musicians, but also by the One who breathes life into us all.



“Mom, you have to go,” my daughter encouraged me over the phone after I told her about it. So, I pulled myself up, talked to the hotel concierge who checked to see if a table would be available, found a cab, and made the short trip across town. How glad I am!
We wandered through more of te restaurant taking thin stained glass and sculpture. Oscar showe us one of his favorites, an Elizabeth Catlette print of Harriet Tubman.