Nothing warms the heart quite like Christmas caroling. The holidays can be
hectic and the spirit of Christmas can easily become lost in the rush and worry
of getting everything “just right”. Eight of us decided to take a much-needed
break and spend an evening Christmas caroling with our children. Setting out
with the intention of lifting the spirits of our neighbors, we spread Christmas
cheer until we were tired, cranky and felt like popsicles.
One more house, we decided, and piling into our cars again, spotted the perfect
target. The lonely-looking elderly man sitting alone in his kitchen window
seemed like he needed us. Pulling over, we parked our cars in front of his house
and argued about which songs to sing. Half of the children were either whining
or crying about the cold and the Utah snow seemed to have lost its sparkle
despite our good intentions.
Finally settling on four songs for the man, we rang the bell and waited for him
to open his door. Already thinking about getting the kids to bed and the work I
had yet to do, I automatically started in on “We Wish You a Merry Christmas”
with the others. But as the man stood in the doorway, his eyes filling with
tears, my side-tracked thoughts came to a screeching halt. As we sang, I could
hear the tears in many of my friends’ voices and my own voice caught and my
singing grew softer as I fought the tears myself.
The elderly gentleman stood in his doorway, the kitchen light behind him
lighting his soft silver hair like a gentle halo. He clapped with delight as we
finished the first song and glided right into the next. Warmth spilled from his
home and out the door. He didn’t seem to care, so happy he was with our visit.
He seemed to personify the Spirit of Christmas and I felt a guilty twinge at my
grouchiness. True joy began to fill my soul as I sang my heart out for this man.
No one had greeted us with such enthusiasm and joy all night. No one had made us
feel so welcome and so loved. Gratitude filled me like hot cocoa and I was so
thankful we were guided to this man.
Finishing up with “Silent Night”, we sang as sweetly and lovingly as we could,
and I heard the sweet man’s own shaky voice join in with us. Tears streamed down
my cold cheeks and I knew not one of us would forget this man. Our song ended
and we all stood on his porch, no one willing to break the spell of this
glorious moment. The man stood grinning through his tears as we grinned right
back through our own.
Thanking us profusely and wishing us a merry Christmas, he went back inside his
warm home, his big grin and the tears on his cheeks the last things I saw. We
slowly and regrettably left the man, whose spirit and tears made all the
difference in our night, all the difference in our Christmas. Although he had
sat alone in his window, looking as if he needed us, we had no idea how much we
needed him, and what a gift to eight Christmas carolers (plus a few children)
that man would be. In him we found the true spirit of Christmas.
Susan Farr Fahncke editor@2theheart.com
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