December 4, 2016
Last night I sang in the second of two Christmas concerts with the Valparaiso University Chorale. Robed in the traditional Valpo maroon velvet robes, we stood on wooden platforms behind the orchestra and band, singing Christmas praises and sending warm-fuzzies every which way. My favorite moment from the concert was when the Chorale was singing in the aisles, a classic chorale move to break up the traditional staging. We sang Silent Night, beginning with the first verse in German, sung in four harmonic by the Chorale. The audience joined for the three English verses. As I sang, I made eye-contact with an old woman sitting near me and she grinned. By the end of the concert, I felt so cheerful and Christmas-y.
One song we sang has a line: “the flying cloud, the frosty light…” As I sang that, it occurred to me that as a Phoenician, I do not associate Christmas with snow. Today I experienced my first snow. I’ve seen snow before, and played in it, but today I experienced snowfall in the place where I live. I was quite excited to wake up this morning to falling snow. The snow didn’t let up all day and I watched my campus transform from green and brick and a few clinging fall leaves to glittery white. I’ve never had the chance to just walk in falling snow and watch it pile up on seemingly fragile branches, feel it catching in my eyelashes and my coat’s faux-fur hood trim, taste it on my tongue…by 4:30PM, the campus was all white snow and blue light, every tree dusted, every ledge perfectly piled, and in the soft glow of a street-light, I laid down in the fresh snow and made a snow-angel.
Singing is an emotional catharsis for me, and I sing to calm down and feel happy or to feel sad and remember what it is to be alive, as a human being. Even more than singing, I love sharing music with others. Every winter concert I’ve been in is especially joyful because of the spirit of the Holiday Season. This year, singing lyrics about snow and winter and love and hope, I got to experience a new Holiday Season that I never knew I was missing. I never yearned for a white Christmas because I hadn’t really had one. This post-concert snow feels like it was just for me, and I understand something more about the music we sang. It’s just snow, I know that, and I know I’ll be irritated with it come February, but today I enjoyed every last moment, down to the pink nose and wet jeans. Let’s raise a glass this December: to winter, holidays, beautiful mornings, and those we love.
