The Christmas Concert

Don’t forget to come back Friday for the Christmas concert,” Mama had said urgently. “It’s going to be very good!” Her eyes sparkled as if I were a long-awaited Friend she’d been expecting for years. At ninety-two, she was still beautiful, could sing and whistle, and was an active member in her church, attending since 1942.

She loved life! It was Friday, Christmas Eve.

I was rushing! I must hurry! The Christmas concert at the assisted living facility would soon start. I saw Mama and six other women and men I knew wearing their beautiful red-and-green outfits. The ladies wore colorful Christmas earrings, headbands in their white hair, and bright-red lipstick. They all wore big smiles! I expected to see lots of these stalwart singers’ family members. After all, it was the Christmas concert! But no one came. The concert began. One lone lady sang carols to a CD player.

Where possible, others sang along with her.

Mama leaned over and exclaimed, “Isn’t this good?” I replied, “Yes,” and thought, Is this it? I’m the minister of music at my church. Our Christmas concert consisted of a hundred thousand dollar audiovisual system, an opera singer singing Handel’s Messiah, a trumpeter, a mass choir, and lots of attendees! “Esta, you said your daughter would be here,” the lady said. “Why don’t you two lead us in the next song?” Mama beamed! So, with me singing soprano and Mama singing alto, we began to sing “Silent Night.” I couldn’t stop the tears as Mama held my hands tightly in hers.

Those hands that could no longer grip a switch, a crochet or knitting needle, or a hymnal. I looked around at the six, struggling to remember words they once knew so well. Then I realized this was “the Christmas concert”! I sang slowly.

I sang thankfully for Mama and these beautiful people.

It reminded me of the birth of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ: two people and some animals. When we returned to her room, Mama whispered, “I told you that you’d like it.” I whispered back, “Yes, Mama, it’s the best Christmas concert ever!” I hugged her hard and long for all the days gone by and all the days ahead when she would be sleeping “in heavenly peace.”*

Edna Thomas Taylor