Each year, at this time, when I hear Angels We Have Heard On High I have vivid childhood memory. It was a Christmas Eve,candle light service at Grace Episcopal Church. My mother and I attended. We always looked forward to the choirs full compliment of carols. The church was decorated beautifully, with lighted candles in every window, and several parishioners holding lit candles, stuck through paper plates. It was wonderfully quite as we listened to Away in the Manger, What Child is This , Silent Night etc. It was peaceful and inspiring. Then came the wonderfully uplifting, Angels We Have Heard On High. It started out beautifully with the choir full and strong, and the congregation joining in. Angels we have heard on high, sweetly singing or the plains. Filled with the joy of the season, we continued, and the mountain in reply... Soon was coming the part we all looked forward to. ...Echoing their joyous strains. The choir and the congregation were ready for the Glorias! Throwing in everything we had, we sang Glor or or or or, or or or or or, or or or or, ia...Rising above the musical din was heard a screeching...perhaps a scream of sorts. The puzzled congregation looked at each other, then in the direction of the noise- the choir, who startled, paused just seconds, as they stared at Eleanor Concidine, the wife of the school superintendent,and a leader in Wabasha society! Eleanor, eyes wide with joy, apparently decided to launch into an impromptu, soprano collatura! Voice and notes rising and falling through musical scales! All were dumbfounded. Glor or or or, or or or or, she went! We joined in timidly, the choir did their best to follow and keep up, and Eleanor persevered! And so went the Carol with Eleanor getting bolder and bolder with each new Gloria. And finally the last Gloria...., the one, which Eleanor had been preparing us! Those Glorias went where no note had been before! Up and down the scale! Backwards. Forward. All throughout the church. If Baby Jesus was not pleased, Eleanor was. Her face beaming with pleasure and the sweet smell of success. When it was finished, the church was silent, no coughing, no rustling of programs. Just silence, and Eleanor beaming. We heard later that she had hosted a cocktail party before the service. If the Divine hadnt inspired her, the vine may have.
Posted on: Mon, 08 Dec 2014 05:53:54 +0000
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