The crowd suddenly cheered.

Caelwyn looked toward the stage.

“What happened?”

“No idea,” Stacy said.

Then the music started.

Someone beside them sang the first line.

Then another voice joined.

Then twenty.

Within seconds, half the square was singing.

Stacy joined in.

Caelwyn stared at her.

“You know this song?”

“No.”

“You’re singing.”

“So are you.”

He stopped.

He was.

Caelwyn laughed.

Hundreds of strangers were moving to the same rhythm now. Workers, students, families, people who might never speak to one another tomorrow.

For one song, they belonged to the same thing.

“You could listen to this at home,” Stacy said.

“Without several hundred people singing badly.”

“Exactly.”

“Sounds better.”

“Probably.”

Caelwyn looked around.

“Doesn’t feel better.”

Stacy smiled.

“No.”

The chorus came around again.

This time they both knew it.

And they sang.

Maybe that is why we celebrate together.

Not because we cannot sing alone.

Because sometimes we want someone else singing with us.