‘Grace’ is among my favourite words. There is divinity in it, and poise, as there is in this little girl’s voice, and in her being. Rhema Marvanne is, apparently, all of 7 years old. An age of innocence, so there should be no surprise there’s not a hint of wretchedness in the performance. But whence comes the amazing grace in her sweet sound? I shiver with it.
Amazing Grace is among my favourite songs, a song about divine triumph over consuming darkness. There is something in it that always brings images of the south to my mind, of beauty amidst squalor, of love amidst wretchedness, of the graceful existence of slaves amidst the slavishness of their masters. Romanticised images, all of them, but a song like this, rendered as exquisitely as it is here by a mere whiff of a girl with an extraordinarily angelic presence inspires such observations.
The transformational power of grace.