December 12 – “Caroling”

 

 

December.  It's a month for many things, but for as long as I can remember somewhere in there has to be at least one shot at going Christmas caroling.  My earliest memories of caroling in the neighborhood around our house came when I was somewhere around 6^th grade.  I had taken up the cornet in school so I wouldn't have to go to singing class with the dreaded Mrs. Littman.  The cornet is kind of a high class name for an instrument that is a lot like a trumpet.  It's not that Mrs. Littman was overly mean or hateful.  She was probably just another typically driven musician.  But I for one was quite scared of her.  She had white hair and demanded a lot that I obviously never had vocally.  But I digress.  Again.  I chose to play in the beginner's band.  My caroling memory was that year a few of us went door to door, not so much for the joy of singing, but more to see what people would give us.  And to make our experience unique, I learned a few of the more basic carols on my cornet.  I'm pretty sure unique would be a kind way of putting the reaction we got from the neighbors.  They were mostly very kind, though, and we scored some cookies and candy and fruit as a result. 

 

At Seaside a few years ago we started caroling around the neighborhood of the church.  We would gather at the building, then start a trek through the streets, stopping at homes with Christmas lights up and hoping someone would be there.  Once or twice we had a trailer available to ferry us from one house to the next.  For a few years we managed to make our trip coincide with a big Christmas party a member of Moody Methodist Church had at their home.  It was always a big highlight of the long walk to stop at the party and eat the cookies they would always bring out to us.  We sure looked forward to it, and they said they did, too.  The Christmas after Hurricane Ike we couldn't walk around too much because there was still quite a bit of debris littering the streets, so instead we did Caroling at the Corner.  We simply stood at the corner near Jamaica Beach's only traffic light and sang.  We set up a little manger with a doll in it, and a few of the children dressed up in biblical garb.   A family in the church brought up some goats and several others brought their dogs, so it became quite an affair.  We did that last year as well, but it was really cold and rainy, so we hustled through the songs and got inside as quickly as we could. 

 

Last night was caroling night again.  But this year we changed things up again.  Once again we found a trailer, but this time we did a hayride with no hay.  That stuff is pretty expensive right now, with the drought and fires.  Instead, everyone brought blankets and sleeping bags to sit on.  The guy who owned the trailer surprised us all.  He dressed it up with Christmas lights and even rigged up two spotlights in the center attached to a ladder so we could see the words to the songs.  All the lights blended with the colorful blankets and coats and hats to make for a pretty festive wagon.  This year we rode throughout the neighborhood singing to the Lord and to anyone else who happened to see us and venture out in the cold to see what was happening.  One lady and her son even joined us after we stopped by their house.  As we pulled into the parking lot of the local Stop and Go to make our way back to the church, the clerk came outside and waved, so we stopped and sang to him and his few customers.  Inspired, we pulled the trailer around the corner and stopped in front of Buck's Bar.  A customer was about to enter, so we called for him to bring everyone outside.  Sure enough, we ended up singing to a few of the patrons who were brave enough to leave the Cowboys' game and brave the chill.  Hot chocolate and apple cider and cookies back at the church made the evening complete.  Not exactly the same as my cornet accompaniment memory, but this one will rank right up there.

 

Isaiah 32:17 says, "The fruit of righteousness will be peace; the effect of righteousness will be quietness and confidence forever."

 

Father, bring us some of that quietness and confidence.  Amen.