A Meeting of Fate
It was the sort of moment that feels more dream than reality. Eight winters past, a boy named Jamie, no more than ten years of age, sat quietly in the corner of a humble music workshop. Clutched in his small hands was a tattered notebook — pages worn, filled not with borrowed words, but songs born of his own heart.
That day’s guest of honor was none other than Sir Rod Stewart — a minstrel whose voice had charmed the world for more than half a century. The other children swarmed about him, giggling, calling out song names, begging for signatures. But Jamie remained still, holding his precious book close, as though to open it would be to expose his soul.
And Rod Stewart saw him.
The Promise
Rather than passing by with a kind smile or casual autograph, the singer knelt beside the boy and asked, “What lies within that book of yours?” With hesitant hands, Jamie opened it.
What met Rod’s eyes were pages of handwritten verse — not mimicry, but the boy’s own poetry set to song. Deeply moved, Stewart placed a gentle hand upon Jamie’s shoulder and spoke words the child would never forget:
“When you perform, I’ll be there. I promise.”
To many, such words might have seemed fleeting — the kind of sentiment often spoken, seldom kept. But to Jamie, they were sacred. They became his compass through stormy years.
The Long Journey
Time passed, and the path was not easy. Jamie’s father lost his work, hardship hung over the household, and at times, the pursuit of music felt like an indulgence they could ill afford.
Yet the boy did not falter. He wrote songs by candlelight. Practiced his guitar until calluses formed and fingers bled. And on his loneliest nights, he repeated that vow to himself like a prayer..
“When you perform, I’ll be there.”
He became known in his village school as “the lad with the notebook.” Teachers praised his resolve. Classmates poked fun — but quietly admired his fire.
When the final school year came, and with it the long-awaited end-of-term showcase, Jamie enrolled without pause. This was his moment. His stage.
An Empty Row
The night arrived, and the auditorium swelled with warmth — laughter, chatter, proud families waiting to see their children shine.
Behind the curtain, Jamie peeked into the sea of faces, his eyes searching for his own. Yet the row reserved for his kin lay heartbreakingly empty. Work shifts and lack of transport had kept them away.
A weight pressed upon his chest. Years of preparation seemed to fall into silence. And just as he stood frozen in place, the stage manager gave a soft nudge:
“You’re on in two minutes.”
