Following worship and a fellowship meal yesterday afternoon, hymnals were distributed and singing was begun. As various members of the congregation made requests, one of my younger sisters (age six) made it known that she wanted to sing #236: “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing”.
So we did. It sounded good, too.
Looking back, however, I can see my initial reaction for what it was: abysmally wrong-headed. Standing there, hymnbook in hand, hearing my sister request a “Christmas song” at the height of summer, I smiled the knowing smile of One Who Knows We Don’t Sing Christmas Songs in July. I’m wise like that, see. I get how things are done.
My sister? Not so much. She doesn’t realize that for many of us, the Christmas spirit gets packed away with the Nativity figurines.
Hindsight tells me that one of us deserved the other’s pity, and probably a slap on the head. I’m fairly sure it wasn’t her.