Chance, luck, divine orchestration, serendipity--whatever it may be called--all feature the coincidence of seemingly random singular events that result in beneficial but unintended outcomes. It can be found anywhere.
It was found in Charlotte, NC, when seven-year-old Kendall Ramseur and his family moved in around the block from eight-year-old Cordaro Rodriguez. They became friends and one day found themselves envisioning all the possibilities the future held as they laid upon a trampoline, staring at the sky.
It was found in each in the various musical instruments that were littered around the homes in which Micah Christian of Randolph, MA and Cordaro were brought up. Music was a hobby, not the intended goal.
It was found in the various stringed instruments that were cast as lots upon a classroom floor from which Kendall Ramseur discerned the cello.
It was found in the mindless and childish acceptance of a free offer to learn the harp by a young Mason Morton of Atlanta, GA, despite having no knowledge of what the harp even looked like.
When these boys became men, serendipity paid them another visit.
It found Micah when he was faced with the decision of accepting an offer to Teach for America or attending grad school at Boston University for theology. On the day he was called to make a decision, a recruiter from Teach for America told Micah that something within her spoke to her saying that Micah belonged at Boston University. And so he went.
It found Cordaro as he applied to law school. His prelaw advisor at Princeton encouraged him to apply to Boston College for law school. He confused Boston College for Boston University, and there he applied. And so he went.
It found Kendall the day after he spent an evening in prayer deciding on which grad school offer to accept in pursuit of his Master’s in Cello Performance. A beaming morning sun opened his eyes the next morning and a voice of peace whispered to him, “Boston University.” Of course there were better financial aid offers. But still he went.
It found Mason after his harp teacher at Rice University entrusted him into the hands of her former teacher, Ann Hobson Pilot of Boston University, for grad school. Mason packed his SUV with his harp and all of his belongings and drove from Houston to Boston. He had no idea where he would live. But still he went.
And then all these singular fortuities fluttered downward as birds finding sanctuary upon a church steeple.
Micah met Cordaro at the Boston University Chapel one Sunday in 2009. Both shared their unusually identical interests and influences in music. So, they kept in touch. Kendall arrived in 2010, and much to his surprise discovered that Cordaro, his childhood friend, was there as well. So, they reconnected. Mason, with all his belongings and no housing prospects save one, arrived at Kendall’s doorsteps on the day he arrived in Cambridge, MA. Kendall’s former roommate had just moved out. Two years later, Cordaro moved in with Kendall and Mason.
Although the kaleidoscope of occurrences seemed to be merging into some discernibly beautiful image, the viewing chamber kept spinning and whatever was forming collapsed.
After graduating in 2012, Micah was called to the deserts of Peru as a volunteer. But there he encountered the most difficult year of his life, facing obstacles the left him disillusioned. Mason, upon graduating, felt ill-prepared for any and everything he hoped to pursue in life. So he decided to pursue yet another degree in music to buy himself time to think about who he was and wanted to become. Kendall decided to pursue a career as a solo cellist and singer-songwriter. However, the enormity of getting such a career off the ground pulled him underground into the Boston subways as a busker, a necessary detour to keep a roof over his head. After graduating from law school, Cordaro was faced with the toughest legal market of the century. Unable to land full-time legal employment that would cover his rent and being unsure of whether he wanted to pursue law further, he accompanied Kendall in his subway performances.
It was not easy to see that the random spinning pieces of brokenness that were embedded in four mirrors of disillusionment would collide in the scope of one year--that their kaleidoscope, properly illuminated, would reveal an emerging serendipitous beauty that has never before been seen or heard.
It was in the heat of the desert Micah found an oasis in expecting nothing from anyone and anything from himself. Amidst the noisy subway trains, Kendall trained his soul to create its own peace in whatever piece he played, whether there was an audience of ninety or none. On the misty mirror of self-doubt, Mason drew maps of all the places his life could take him, seeing himself more clearly in the contours of each stroke. And on the foggy window of uncertainty, Cordaro contented himself in being the droplet that resigns itself to taking the path of least resistance down the window pane, revealing what lies beyond.
With their resignation to serendipity there came an astounding fortuitous cascade of wonders.
Finding Micah fresh out of his desert experience, serendipity placed before him the opportunity to audition for America’s Got Talent. He said yes. Micah asked Cordaro to join him. He said yes. Cordaro asked Kendall and Mason to join them. They said yes. Everyone said yes. Not one of them could even tell you why they said yes, and they all would deny having felt any deep moving conviction to say yes. To say yes was as unforeseen to them as the opportunity itself. Neither would they admit that their yes’s were particularly hopeful or excited ones. Rather, their yes was conceived by a thorough and utter resignation to serendipity. And so, the Sons of Serendip were born.
Sons of Serendip were finalists on season 9 of America’s Got Talent. They continue to create beautiful music through the use of a harp, piano, cello, and voice.