The theater erupted with the sound of applause before the final note of Frühlingsstimmen by Johann Strauss came to an end. Slowly, like a wave returning to shore, the audience rose to their feet. Maria Esposito had just given the performance of a lifetime.

As she stood on the Evans Theater stage, Maria could not contain her smile; it shone as brilliantly as she sang, lighting up her entire face. She looked a vision of romance with her jet black curls swept up into a chignon, loose spirals gently caressing each cheek as they made their way down to her bare shoulders. The stage lights caught the A-line skirt of her satin and tulle, black-to-aubergine gradient evening gown, inducing a shimmer as bright as her deep brown eyes at that very moment.

Maria’s chest heaved as she caught her breath. She looked out into the sea of evening wear among the red velvet seats that were now hidden from view, blocked by the standing ovation. Could this acclamation really be for her? It seemed too surreal. To her, it didn’t matter if this was her first performance or her fiftieth, she wasn’t sure if she would ever get used to strangers spending money to watch and listen as she sang her arias, weaving a tale with her soprano vocals with only a piano to accompany her. And the fact that they showed their appreciation for it threw her into an elated yet unbelieving state.

Those who knew Maria growing up would have never imagined they would ever watch her up on stage in front of so many strangers. The shy, timid girl had come to the Russo’s when she was just four-years-old. Her mother was no longer able to take care of her and left Maria in their care, knowing that they would treat her like one of their own.

And they had. Despite being adopted into a new family, Maria was given what even she would consider a “normal childhood.” She grew up with two older brothers, Matthew and Anthony, attended the local public schools from Kindergarten up through her senior year where she didn’t...