December 20, 2007
Christmas now, in just five days! The past weeks have centered on cookies, cards and gifts, and those have taken up all energy and time. In the “olden” days, there were also parties, Christmas music preparations and endless Children’s program rehearsals, and my present self views that in awe. Charles says very matter-of-factly, “That was then, this is now”. We have had snow and glittering trees for days, actually living in the Christmas card settings that often arrive in the form of Christmas card illustrations. Fortunately, we do not have to harness horses and travel by sleigh as frequently depicted, though my mother’s stories of going to Hanover church in a horse drawn cutter, wrapped in fur robes and through the snow covered land on a moonlit night still fills the heart with nostalgia. She would tell of the bells on the horses sounding from every direction as families came to the church.
My childhood memories of the Christmas eve event are centered on the same landscape and in the same church in the country. Perhaps the brightest picture is one in which I solo for the second verse of “O Little Town of Bethlehem”. . . “For Christ is born of Mary, and gathered all above. . . etc.” I was in the second grade, and stood in the middle of the front of the church, and I was wearing a dress with a red velveteen top and a satin plaid skirt. As I sang, I still see the faces looking at me with ever growing smiles upon them. I was very pleased because I assumed it was delight in my singing; unfortunately, it apparently was that I was twisting my skirt in my hand, which was getting shorter and shorter, and the smiles were about whether my modesty would be compromised before the end of the verse. Never sure of the outcome, this may well have been the end of a budding operatic career.
In earlier times, my persona would be described as “delicate” or perhaps even “frail”, though my physical appearance is neither. My immunities are edgy, aches seem to compound, and my energy feels as though it is receding somewhat. This is not yet worth complaining about since all is better than what might have been. Charles’ father would always reply to concerns about his health as “Not bad, and it’s better than the alternative” so that phrase has been added to the commentary in the family. My blood readings indicated that they held their own, with just a small drop in the red counts. The next reading takes place the day after Christmas. So I delight and savor these days – as I lie awake in the early morning hours, there are Christmas celebrations from past years playing through my mind and carols and songs sing on and on in my head. Upon occasion this means that my first words of the morning to Charles might be, “How does the third verse of ‘Joy to the World’ begin?” There will be grand music in the next days, and the wonderful and familiar story of Jesus’ birth will be told in word and song. We will view the sky over Sanctuary and think of angels singing and hope once more for peace on earth and good will everywhere.