I’m not sure what exactly it was about this weekend that flipped my “holiday spirit” switch. But all of a sudden, I’m drawn to Christmas lights like a moth to flame. That’s not to say that I’m typically a Grinch. Christmas has always been big in my house. Like, BIG big. We truly believed that Santa had time to play Ding Dong Ditch-it on Christmas eve before making his rounds to the rest of the millions of kids around the world, and at our houses as well.
Maybe it was the fact that we got our first snow this weekend. It wasn’t much, but it was large, picturesque flakes that made me feel like I was living in a snow globe. Army Boy and I just stood at the back door for countless minutes on Saturday morning, wrapped in a blanket together and watched it fall.
Perhaps it was that I spent all weekend singing Christmas music, both sacred and secular. Seeing the enjoyment on people’s faces when they recognized a familiar carol, or when they were truly touched by a beautiful peace of music reminded me of why I love singing so much in the first place. Having everything come together, with the choir, the snow and candlelight reflecting on stained glass windows was a rare treat for both the audience and us alike.
(Oh, and I got to sing my first solo with the group. Which I was insanely nervous for on Friday when Army Boy came with my parents, and then had no further trouble with for the rest of the weekend. Go figure. Singing in front of strangers = easy. Family? Not so much.)
Performing for the public gives me the opportunity to see some of the sweeter side of human nature. The men of the choir stepped up to provide the muscle for some of our elderly female members who aren’t so steady on their feet. Audience members didn’t attempt to hide tears as they were emotionally affected by the music, whether reminded of loved ones or Christmases past, or just enthralled by the moment. Even our director, a professional musician was moved by the concert we’d prepared, and fought to remain composed when taking a bow.
Coming home last night, I was completely exhausted, both from the physical toll of singing and travelling, and from the emotion poured into each concert. I was able to curl up by the fire, and just study the Christmas tree, which Mom and Dad put up this weekend while I was away. It was odd to contemplate that this may be my last Christmas living at home, and that next year will mark the transition to a new phase in my life.
Whatever the cause, it feels like this is going to be a holiday to remember.
PS- For those that are bored by my philosophical musings, I have some fun stuff coming up. Remember this? Oh yeah, I totally did it. 🙂