Letter 13 • A Gift the World Tried to Ignore
Everyone, everything is temporary. But when we’re gone, we must leave the world better than we entered it, yes?
My way of doing this was through my three-octave range. For years, I moved crowds to worship with my voice, yet I carried a quiet ache—never knowing where such a gift came from. So when I learned that I sang like one of my parents, it felt like the best Christmas present I could have received.
With such a gift and so many limitations, my journey onto each stage was by no means easy, but it was destined.
I was raised to be independent, self-sufficient, and brave. And, I had to be all of that if I wanted to become the nation’s most sought-after prima donna. Because no matter my talents or abilities, I was a Black woman in a world where white men determined the value of our lives.
As someone determined to grace the stage as a world-renowned opera singer, I did what I knew best to recognize and honor my value.
Singing was not an option for me; it was a gift I knew had to be shared. This was a dangerous path, but I chose it more than I feared enslavement or death.
The theme of my life has been doing a thing when I am feeling afraid.
And so, when I step out, I whisper a prayer and hope that God meets me on stage.
I am proud of myself.
For trusting the gift.
For believing in its power.
For walking through an open door—or, more specifically, singing in front of a closed one.
Elizabeth Green Taylor
The Black Swan
This letter was inspired by the book The Unexpected Diva by Tiffany L. Warren
A few lines slipped directly from its pages:
Everyone, everything is temporary.
But when we’re gone, we must leave the world better than we entered it, yes?I was raised to be independent, self-sufficient, and brave.
I was a Black woman in a world where white men determined the value of our lives.
I chose it more than I feared enslavement or death.
…doing a thing when I am feeling afraid.
I whisper a prayer and hope that God meets me on stage.
I am proud of myself.
For trusting the gift.
For believing in its power.
For walking through an open door—or, more specifically, singing in front of a closed one.
Short Content Brew
This was the kind of story that keeps you turning pages, quietly asking, what happens next?
What will come of Elizabeth’s longing for the stage, and what will it cost her to get there?
Many of the characters are easy to settle in with, the kind that make you wonder about their story beyond the page. I especially loved her friend, Mary, and their custom of sharing tea and sandwiches while trading gossip. What Elizabeth called “tasty morsels for tasty tidbits.” It felt intimate, familiar, and warm.
The Cup We’d Share
Imagine sitting for a moment with Elizabeth — the woman who carried her voice like a calling, even when the world insisted it didn’t belong on its stages. The Authenticitea Barista would pour something warm, grounding, and gently strengthening.
A blend for those who have prepared in private for a moment that would unfold in public.
A cup for anyone who has whispered a prayer before doing the very thing that scares them most.
For the ones who warm their voice, steady their hands, and trust the gift placed within them.
A brew for those who sing in front of closed doors.
A brew for the ones who honor their calling, even when the cost is high.
A Sip of Quiet Resolve
Tea Blend: Black Tea + Honey + Orange Peel
Mood Pairing: For moments when courage needs warmth before it finds its voice.
Flavor Note: Smooth, lightly sweet, and steady — a cup that soothes the throat and strengthens the spirit.
Reflection: Where in your life are you being asked to trust your gift and step forward, even without certainty that the door will open?
Why This Letter
When I came across The Unexpected Diva and realized I hadn’t heard of it before, there was no hesitation; it immediately became my next read.
I don’t listen to opera often, but I deeply appreciate the gift behind it. While reading this story, I was playing opera soundtracks alongside it, especially performances by Black artists. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the pairing; how the music gave the story even more depth.
While researching Elizabeth Green, I came across a quote from a press review following one of her performances. It described the audience’s expressions as if they were asking, “Why do we see the face of a Black woman but hear the voice of an angel?”
I sat with that.
Not for long, though, because I know that angels come in all colors, sizes, and genders, even when the world struggles to reconcile what it sees with what it hears.
As we move through the holiday season and toward a new year, this letter felt like a reminder worth sharing: that voices meant to bring beauty into the world will always find a way to rise, and that sometimes, the bravest thing we can do is listen closely, openly, and without expectation.
That’s the sip I’ll leave you with today. Thanks for reading — until the next letter.
P.S. If this letter made you smile or feel seen, feel free to forward it to someone who might need the same sip today. (Or leave a note in the comments — I love hearing how these letters land.)
