Carolling

Today

On Facebook today, my friend Cath told of her 92 year old mother, who can barely talk these days, joining in lustily with carols at the local service. "The Power of Music!" she proclaimed. .

In My Day

Paul's Mum always liked to sing, although I would never have described her as a "singer". When Christmas approached it was my job to drive, usually alone, to Eastbourne to pick her up. The weather was often dreadful. I'd arrive at her flat, make sure she'd packed essentials. Then we'd whisk around to relatives and friends to say "Happy Christmas" and drop off pressies.

So, by the time we got going again, it was often past 8.00 pm. I used to dread the long drive home in the murky, mizzley weather, wondering how I was going to keep my eyes open.

I had a tape of Christmas carols sung by the London Bach Choir with full orchestral backing. It had cost me all of a fiver and there were about forty carols on this glorious recording. I'd whack this into the player, hoping that it would keep me alert for the next three hours. As it launched into "Once in Royal", Mum would lift up her voice, quavery at first, then getting stronger. I'd join in as well, giving the descants, and we would  sing our way home, hearts full of joy and cheer.

The journey seemed so much shorter and we would arrive home to a fire, wine, tea, looking forward to the next few days together.

The power of music indeed; long may we feel it.