Saturday, Dec. 18, 2004 1103365030

A Christmas Moment

Or Two�

The hostess led us back to a booth in the corner of the restaurant. Immediately I noticed that we were being seated adjacent to a long table surrounded by a large party of people.

�Could we please be seated a bit further away from the large group of people?� I asked. And we were ushered down the isle to another seating where my friend and I could carry on an intimate conversation without having to shout across the table.

The atmosphere felt familiar and I lost all thoughts and awareness of it being a special time of year. Then I saw the group of celebrating people coming down the isle toward the exit. Their �party� obviously had been a success. They fairly danced in a queue down the isle to the front entrance; big smiles splashed across their faces. Then I caught sight of him. One celebrant midway in the line, with a bouncing Santa hat perched jauntily on his head. As he jogged along, the hat�s tassel flagged my attention.

It was at that moment, I caught it. The Christmas Spirit. As an unseen�or at least unnoticed observer - I caught it.

I saw the joy of Christmas in all their faces. For a brief moment it felt as though everything around me was celebrating and beaming with the feeling of the holiday. It was a party.

For a moment.

We were seated in a �mega church� filled with a crowd enjoying a presentation of the annual Christmas �Night of Songs�. The performances were polished and professionally executed. The program flowed flawlessly, capturing my unwavering attention.

Then a chord was struck. Not a musical chord. A chord of nostalgic memory. A strong pure voice began to carol the strains of �Gesu Bambino.� And I was in another auditorium�in another time.

I was one of a group of twenty or thirty young girls about seventeen years of age. We were on another stage. In another part of the country. But we were singing the same song.

�When blossoms flowered 'mid the snows upon a winter night��

Each young lady wore identically styled dresses of either a pale yellow or frosty green fabric that flared out from a princess bodice and waistline. Each had a matching ribbon chocker at her throat. And each stood with her eyes locked onto the face and hands of the choral director.

�Was born the Child the Christmas Rose, The King of Love and Light��

We too, had been practicing our performance for months. We began learning the songs for the Christmas programs (of which there were always several)�as soon as school opened in the fall. By December, they were perfect.

The melody was carried by the soprano section. I sang alto.

�The angels sang, the shepherds sang, The grateful earth rejoiced.
And at His blessed birth the stars Their exultation voiced.�

Tonight as the soloist carried the melody, I heard the alto harmony rise up inside. It was all still there. My voice was silent, but my heart sang right along with the performer. I was back on stage in my yellow dress surrounded by the strains of �Gesu Bambino�.

But only for a moment.

I want to share with you the verse and photo on my Christmas card this year.

�I wish I could be �up close and personal� to wish you a Merry Christmas.
But this is the best I can manage.
I�m looking through the window...

...wishing you all the blessings of the season,
now and in the New Year.�

Thanks for reading!

Short BIO Found Here

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