(There is a tradition in folk tales, oft overlooked or frowned upon, of telling the occasional story that is complete nonsense, utter silliness, foolish to the nth degree. For the next three days, today included, the stories will attempt to be in that genre. I’ve always been rather partial to the style.)
Matilda had the most beautiful singing voice, but she was so shy that no one ever heard her sing. Every day she would sneak outside to behind the farm barn and sing arias from famous operas.
One freezing winter’s day it was so cold behind the barn that the music Matilda sang hung in the air. There were literally frozen notes unflinchingly dangling in the sky. Matilda scurried back inside to get warm next to the coal range.
A country yokel happened to be passing and he saw the hanging frozen notes and gathered them up into his haversack. He took them to the local opera house where the notes quickly defrosted.
“Is that you singing?” asked the maestro in charge.
“It is indeed,” said the yokel.
He was given the role of Friedrich in Wagner’s Das Liebesverbot. It was a disaster because the character of Friedrich was a bass and Matilda was a coloratura soprano.
In the meantime, Matilda continued to sing secretly behind the barn. Which just goes to show, doesn’t it?