An old man, going a lone highway,
Came, at the evening, cold and gray,
To a chasm, vast, and deep, and wide,
Through which was flowing a sullen tide.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim;
The sullen stream had no fears for him;
But he turned, when safe on the other side,
And built a bridge to span the tide.
“Old man,” said a fellow pilgrim, near,
“You are wasting strength with building here;
Your journey will end with the ending day;
You never again must pass this way;
You have crossed the chasm, deep and wide-
Why build you the bridge at the eventide?”

The builder lifted his old gray head:
“Good friend, in the path I have come,” he said,
“There followeth after me today
A youth, whose feet must pass this way.
This chasm, that has been naught to me,
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.
He, too, must cross in the twilight dim;
Good friend, I am building the bridge … for him.”

I just love stories like that which capture big feelings, big ideas into simple words.

When recently meeting with Department of Music Chair, Dr. Fellin, we had a discussion about the arts and the support for the arts over the years. He also said something so simple but very insightful and it totally put this relationship into perspective for me.

He said, “Art … is giving.”

And later the next week I met with our Dean, Dr. Scartelli who had arranged a meeting with me to discuss tonight’s dinner and its purpose. However, after 5 minutes of talking about the dinner, the remainder of the hour was spent listening to stories of how Life, experiences, and most of all people, had given him something unique, special, and undeniably useful.

Days later I was performing in Blacksburg for the Rebecca Orr Benefit Concert and while getting ready to leave after the performance, I ran into RU Guitar Professor Dr. Robert Trent. We ended up standing outside in what felt like sub-zero temperatures for probably 30 minutes or longer – all the while sharing stories, particularly of his past, concerning the incredible and often risky opportunities that people had given him and how those opportunities had completely shaped the direction of his Life.

On the following school day, I had stopped by professor David Castonguay’s office to ask if he had received my Thank You card. I had left a card in his mailbox thanking him and the Madrigal Singers for the “gift” of their time and sincerity in preparing and performing my latest composition for choir. DOC looked at me with that look … a warm and comforting gleam to his eyes. He smiled softly and said, “Dan, that’s what we’re here for …”

And so here we are.

Each gift that we give is a bridge we build for someone else; and the more sincere, passionate, and honest we are about our giving, then the more sturdy and everlasting those bridges will be. All of us here in this room share a commonality: We “give.” Whether of ourselves through our talents or through the generosity of supporting those talents, we can come to understand that it requires both to have truly great and significant art.

It is not the size of the contribution – or the highness of the note – or the length of the script – or the speed of the dance, that defines its value to us.\

It’s the beauty in the giving . . . and for that, we should all be thankful.

Thank You