Opening night. The audience takes their seats. The makeup artist applies a few finishing touches on me before I go out onstage. Think I\u2019m not nervous? A bit fearful? Even after 50 years as a performer I still get the jitters. What if I forget a lyric? What if I miss a cue? What if I trip during a dance number? A million things could go wrong. I take a deep breath. Trust, I remind myself. Trust that everything will be all right, no matter what goes wrong.<\/p>\n
I first learned the meaning of that word as a little girl growing up in Sweden. It was during World War II and Daddy went off to build us a life in America. He would send for us soon. I cried every night at first because I was so afraid without him. I\u2019m sure my mother was too. But her faith got her through. \u201cYou can trust God. He will always be here with us, even when Daddy is not,\u201d she told me. And sure enough, five years later, we were reunited with Daddy in New York City.<\/p>\n
Faith and trust? You can\u2019t be in show business, or any business, without them. I was discovered at age 18 by the legendary George Burns. I made my film debut in Pocketful of Miracles<\/em> and shared a marquee with Elvis Presley in Viva Las Vegas.<\/em> I was very honored to receive two Academy Award nominations. But there were plenty of tough periods in my career. Sometimes all I had going for me was trust.<\/p>\n Especially during my biggest struggle, after a live performance in September 1972. The opening number of my show in Lake Tahoe, Nevada, called for me to be lowered slowly onto the stage by a descending platform. The first six performances went off without a hitch. But as I stepped onto the platform for the seventh show, I felt it begin to wobble. Something\u2019s wrong. <\/em>Then the platform tipped, throwing me headfirst into space. All I remember was staring two stories down at the stage hurtling up at me.<\/p>\n