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3 months ago
Monday, December 25, 2017
Sunday, December 24, 2017
The Third Bell
When we arrived, it was sunset already, and went to our desks, but we took our coats along with us, because we would soon be leaving for the church service soon. All dressed in our Sunday best, making fun of the way everybody's parents had dressed them.
The teacher calls the class to order, panic time is here. One last fast run-through of the recitations has us convinced that we have forgotten everything. The previous two or three weeks of classes, largely devoted to learning these parts, all for naught. It is SHOW TIME!
In the few remaining moments before final assembly, we compare notes on our family Christmas celebrations, and, mostly, our Christmas presents. Some have already opened their gifts, some have to wait until tomorrow morning, some are so cool they know already what they're getting, so it doesn't matter. Ah, adolescence! Too cool to care. Ya, sure.
Tonight, we have not one but two performances. The Christmas service attendance is so large that one service couldn't hold all the spectators. Between the services, we return to the classroom, where the "room mothers" (volunteer parents) serve s cookies and juice. We were the sought-after commodity, the stars of the show.
Classes line up and march out of the classroom, single file, in the exact order of our pews. There are approximately 300 of us. We are directed to the sidewalk, class by class, and march over to the church, where we wait outside for the beginning of the service processional, signaled by the church bells.
Standing in the magical icy Christmas stillness, we are still talking about presents, but, in somewhat muted tones, because we're not supposed to be talking at all.
And, finally, from the church steeple, a creaking from the steeple means the bells are about to ring. The familiar Ding Dong starts to peal from the steeple, in and out of sync with one another as each bell tolls at its own rate. And tonight, there's an extra bell a third voice that we has never heard from our steeple before. A third bell. Higher-pitched, and much faster tolling rate, this bell doesn't at first seem to belong with the other two, as if from some other church steeple, but then one discovers that this bell adds its joy to the special occasions celebrated by the other bells.
The director this year is Mr. Brauer, the music teacher. He played the violin and looked and sounded, appropriately, like Jack Benny. During various numbers, including the processional, he picks up his violin and soars over the melody with a beautiful descant.
The church is packed to capacity as we enter. The church hits us all at once, it's warm, it's bright, it's full of sound, full of joy. The still dark tree in the front, must have been about 16 feet high. As the last of the procession goes into the front pews, the tree sprang to life. Three sections of lighting suddenly came to life, the tree drew so much power that a special service was installed from the utility pole. Brilliant white light bulbs created an overwhelming spectacle that was almost painful to look at.
Weeks of practice paid off, as we head to the exact seat in the exact pew we had rehearsed. The congregation is crowded into every pew, including the upstairs. The normal echoes of the church are absorbed into nothingness by the capacity crowd. The organ even sounds strange. "O Come All Ye Faithful" played at full capacity of the organ, sforzando and all using pipes not normally deployed and then some, but no match for the lusty singing of the congregation. These people were ready for a spectacular, and spectacular we were!
The teacher calls the class to order, panic time is here. One last fast run-through of the recitations has us convinced that we have forgotten everything. The previous two or three weeks of classes, largely devoted to learning these parts, all for naught. It is SHOW TIME!
In the few remaining moments before final assembly, we compare notes on our family Christmas celebrations, and, mostly, our Christmas presents. Some have already opened their gifts, some have to wait until tomorrow morning, some are so cool they know already what they're getting, so it doesn't matter. Ah, adolescence! Too cool to care. Ya, sure.
Tonight, we have not one but two performances. The Christmas service attendance is so large that one service couldn't hold all the spectators. Between the services, we return to the classroom, where the "room mothers" (volunteer parents) serve s cookies and juice. We were the sought-after commodity, the stars of the show.
Classes line up and march out of the classroom, single file, in the exact order of our pews. There are approximately 300 of us. We are directed to the sidewalk, class by class, and march over to the church, where we wait outside for the beginning of the service processional, signaled by the church bells.
Standing in the magical icy Christmas stillness, we are still talking about presents, but, in somewhat muted tones, because we're not supposed to be talking at all.
And, finally, from the church steeple, a creaking from the steeple means the bells are about to ring. The familiar Ding Dong starts to peal from the steeple, in and out of sync with one another as each bell tolls at its own rate. And tonight, there's an extra bell a third voice that we has never heard from our steeple before. A third bell. Higher-pitched, and much faster tolling rate, this bell doesn't at first seem to belong with the other two, as if from some other church steeple, but then one discovers that this bell adds its joy to the special occasions celebrated by the other bells. The director this year is Mr. Brauer, the music teacher. He played the violin and looked and sounded, appropriately, like Jack Benny. During various numbers, including the processional, he picks up his violin and soars over the melody with a beautiful descant.
The church is packed to capacity as we enter. The church hits us all at once, it's warm, it's bright, it's full of sound, full of joy. The still dark tree in the front, must have been about 16 feet high. As the last of the procession goes into the front pews, the tree sprang to life. Three sections of lighting suddenly came to life, the tree drew so much power that a special service was installed from the utility pole. Brilliant white light bulbs created an overwhelming spectacle that was almost painful to look at.
Weeks of practice paid off, as we head to the exact seat in the exact pew we had rehearsed. The congregation is crowded into every pew, including the upstairs. The normal echoes of the church are absorbed into nothingness by the capacity crowd. The organ even sounds strange. "O Come All Ye Faithful" played at full capacity of the organ, sforzando and all using pipes not normally deployed and then some, but no match for the lusty singing of the congregation. These people were ready for a spectacular, and spectacular we were!
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