Autumn is in full swing, yet before I head out to rake leaves, I want to reflect on some of the best moments of the summer. It was a hot and humid season, but two events in mid-July cooled my mind and nourished my spirit despite scorching temps.

On a steamy Thursday evening, about a dozen members of Fiery Hope, the chorus I direct, serenaded residents of The Arc in Greenfield. Adults with developmental disabilities sat in lawn chairs and listened appreciatively as we sang (and sweated) our way through a varied repertoire. When we wrapped up the evening with “Amazing Grace,” one of the residents, a young man with Down syndrome, made it clear how much the song means to him. He sang with gusto, and within a few seconds was unabashedly weeping.

But that didn’t stop him from singing; he continued crooning heartily as he sobbed, rocking back and forth, passionately belting out the lyrics.

As the show ended, I approached the young man. Taking my hands in his, he said, “I love that song. I LOVE that song!” He wrapped me in a hug, and I remembered once again why I love my work.

Two days later, my string band, Forest Avenue, provided entertainment during the first anniversary celebration of the Greenfield Public Library. We played fiddle tunes from various traditions, and then, without having planned to do so, I asked if anyone in the room had a birthday that week. A woman gasped and raised her hand. Pointing to her husband, she said, “He just turned 75!”

I asked folks to join me in singing “Happy Birthday” to the honoree, and then asked children in the audience if they had favorite songs, which led to an impromptu instrumental medley of “Twinkle, Twinkle,” “Wheels on the Bus,” and “Puff, the Magic Dragon,” with library patrons singing along. I silently thanked my parents for encouraging my brothers and me to dare to be spontaneous while performing in public.

A group of about 10 people sat around two tables pushed together, and it became clear that they included developmentally disabled adults accompanied by helpers. One woman, who appeared to have a number of physical and cognitive disabilities, beckoned to me and said in a stage whisper, “It’s HER birthday! She’s 44!” She pointed across the table to a woman who grinned while covering her eyes.

I asked the birthday person if we could sing to her, too, and she nodded vigorously. As we finished the time-honored birthday anthem, I leaned down to the song instigator and murmured, “And you? Do YOU have a favorite song?” Closing her eyes and nodding, she whispered a song title so quietly that I didn’t catch it the first time. I asked her to repeat it, and she opened her eyes and said, very clearly, “Amazing Grace!”

I drew the bow slowly across my strings; soon nearly everyone was singing, and the room filled with the open and loving nature of our community, where two special people in one week helped shine lights through the illusion of despair resulting from a chronic addiction to alarming headlines.

There’s a lot of pain in this world; that’s undeniable. But when I’m on the lookout for other stories unfolding every day, I find that far more of those stories are positive than corporate media outlets would have us believe. How sweet the sound!

Eveline MacDougall lives in Greenfield.