Lynette Sawatsky and Noon-Hour School Choir

Like many of you, I cannot imagine my life without music. As I reflect on the years that have passed, it’s easy to see the thread of music running through the tapestry of my life.

The year I turned four, my parents enrolled my older sister and me in two activities: piano lessons and figure skating. We quickly fell in love with both. But money was tight, and at the end of that year, my mom told us we would need to make a choice between them. My sister quickly said, “I choose skating!”, to which my mom replied, “No, you choose piano.” That decision shaped the direction of our lives in the years that followed.

My skates rarely surface from their spot in the storage room these days, but I continue to find joy in exploring many avenues of musical expression. I will always be grateful for the “choice” my mom made on our behalf! (… Still, I can’t help wondering how it would feel to soar gracefully through the air and successfully land a double axel!)

The years have flown by, each one seeming to pass more quickly than the last. After completing my ARCT (under the patient guidance of Walter Thiessen) and earning my Bachelor of Education, I spent a short time teaching music in the school system before shifting direction to teach private piano lessons while raising our four children.

The year 2011 marked a turning point. As my children became more independent, I felt ready to stretch a little and pursue new possibilities. That was the year I began composing music and adjudicating at festivals, two pursuits that continue to bring me great joy. It was also the year I felt a soft but persistent tug on my heart. It was quietly unsettling and refused to go away. I had a vague idea that I wanted to do something meaningful with children who didn’t have easy access to music. For months I wondered how this idea would take shape. Gradually a plan unfolded, and I began to lead a noon hour choir at St. Francis Cree Bilingual School.

Many of the students at St. Francis are bused there from core neighbourhoods, choosing to attend this school so they can learn to speak Cree. It is a vibrant, bustling place filled with dedicated staff and energetic students from diverse backgrounds. To help our singers stay focused, we began incorporating sign language in our songs. We were amazed at how quickly the students embraced it. Even those with significant learning challenges often engage more fully through movement, and I believe the combination of music and motion helps them internalize and remember the words more deeply.

Our once-a-week open door rehearsal format means that students must make the difficult choice to give up outdoor play time to come and sing with us. Because of this, attendance varies. Some students join us occasionally, while others come regularly. All are welcome. Music speaks to their souls, and choir provides a safe, inclusive place where they can belong. The shared experience of singing together (a blend of playful and sacred repertoire) has opened doors to meaningful connections and experiences I might otherwise have missed.

This fall, I had the unique privilege of learning Cree words from one of the school’s Elders and incorporating them into our rendition of “The Blessing” (Kari Jobe). I have also had the loveliest opportunities to interact with the amazing staff and to build relationships with students who choose to come to choir regularly.

What began as a simple desire to give back to the community through music has, in turn, given so much to me. It has stretched me, opened doors to meaningful work in truth and reconciliation, and reminded me that stepping forward into uncertainty often brings unexpected blessings.

I am deeply grateful that music has been a constant thread throughout my life. It weaves itself into my journey of faith and opens spaces where Light pushes back darkness, and where joy, connection, and a true sense of belonging rise above cultural differences, reminding me that what unites us is far greater than what sets us apart.