"...to console those who mourn in Zion,
to give them beauty for ashes,
the oil of joy for mourning,
the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
that they may be called trees of righteousness,
the planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified."
Everyone in my family knows I've adored The Sound of Music since I first saw it as a child. I listened to the soundtrack over and over on my little record player (skipping Climb Every Mountain every time). I own copies of three different books authored by Maria von Trapp. (The two biographies differ radically - to the extent that I don't know which to believe.) I had a heartbreaking crush on the Christopher Plummer character, though I was so young I couldn't tell if I wanted to marry him or for him to be my father. I envied the wardrobe of the baronness who wanted to marry Georg. I haven't watched the film through in a few years, though I hardly need to. I've seen it dozens of times. Yet as personal as all this feels to me, I am clearly not alone. This film has captured the hearts of young and old for decades insisting that we stop, remember, and smile.