Once Enough

In the heart of Brooklyn’s Bed-Stuy neighborhood lived Miss Lorraine, a retired jazz singer in her late 80s. Her brownstone was a time capsule—records stacked like bricks, a framed photograph of Ella Fitzgerald on the wall, and a dusty piano no one had touched in years.

To the neighborhood kids, she was just a grumpy old lady with too many cats. But one summer evening, when a blackout swept the block, the children gathered on her stoop, bored and restless. One dared to ask, “Miss Lorraine, is it true you once sang at the Apollo?”

She stared at them for a moment. Then, without a word, she walked inside. Moments later, she returned—wearing a silk scarf, eyeliner freshly drawn, and carrying her portable record player.

As the vinyl began to spin, so did her story. She had shared a stage with legends, traveled across continents, fallen in love with a French saxophonist, and once turned down a million-dollar contract because it came with a leash.

“But then you disappeared,” one boy asked.

She smiled. “I didn’t disappear. I just chose a quieter ending.”

“But don’t you regret not being famous?”

Miss Lorraine leaned back, her eyes twinkling in the candlelight. “You only live once, child. But if you do it right—once is enough.”

From that day on, kids came by every evening. Not for stories. But for wisdom.

Years later, when Miss Lorraine passed, her brownstone became a community art space. On the door hung a brass plate etched with her words.

Moral: 

Life isn’t about length or fame—it’s about depth and truth.

Inspiration:

You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough. - Mae West