Write Integrity Press Christmas: Christmas Concert Memories
Write Integrity Press wraps up our Christmas week with a Facebook party tonight from 7-9 EST. I’ll be hanging out and around 8:30, participating in a chat. I’d love to connect with you. We have lots of party favors to pass out, you don’t want to miss!
My last walk down memory lane is about Christmas concerts. I asked my colleagues if they had ever been in a pageant or choir.
Tracy Ruckman:
A couple of years when I was a kid, we participated in the children’s choir at Christmas. I loved that time – and to this day, still see the songbook we used. I even remember the pictures and the order of some of the songs in the book, and standing in the choir room rehearsing. I think I was only 8 or 9, so retaining those kinds of memories surprise me at times. LOL!
Elizabeth Noyes:
Not a family event, but we always attend our grandkids’ special events. If you heard my kids and grandkids sing, you’d understand why … but they do make a joyful noise!
Phee Paradise:
When I was in school we had a Christmas program every year – sort of a talent show. I have very little of that sort of talent, but one year I translated part of The Night Before Christmas into English/Spanish and performed it. i.e. Twas the night before Christmas and all through the casa, not a creature was stirring “Carramba, que pasa?” (full disclosure – that part was common knowledge, I did the rest of it)
Betty Thomason Owens:
First grade. We wore white paper collars with black crepe paper ties and sang “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” – Mom still has the paper collar. It’s really old.
I remember my elementary and middle school concerts like it was yesterday. The good I recall is my clarinet playing best friend was always there. We got ready together, giggled as we waited and when our sisters had concerts we sat together and talked, getting in trouble for being disruptive. The bad was that the events carried extra stress I didn’t know how to process and I was the only female percussionist in a time where that wasn’t welcomed. At all. Bullying? You have no idea.
But I can still hear the squeaks and squawks of Jingle Bells to this day, smiling as I now attend these concerts as a mom.
