It's All In Your Perspective

Don was enlisted by the Director of the Handbell Choir at our church to play with them for the Christmas Eve Service.  We have 3 services on Christmas Eve; the 4 p.m. is quiet and traditional (a service perfect for older Episcopalians), 5:30 is the Family Service which is absolute bedlam and involves funny hats and a Homily around the Creche with all the children sitting around on the floor; but the 11 p.m. service is beautiful, solemn, and musical.  We usually hire several musicians to play the trumpet, the flute, the bass, etc., to accompany the Choir, which begins the Pre-Mass music at 10:30.  The Handbell Choir also plays a number of pieces before and during the Service.

When Don asked me whether or not he should commit to helping, I encouraged him.  He played handbells for years, beginning when he still lived at home.  He also directed our Handbell Choir for several years.  He's very talented and I thought he would enjoy getting his "hand" back in it.  Besides, I told him, the children are all old enough now to go to the Late Service, and I think it would be a neat experience for all of us.

However, we couldn't possibly miss the Family Service at 5:30 and we were assigned to take the Gifts up to the Altar at that Service, so we knew we would be attending both.  Our family tradition, started just 6 years ago, is to have Fondue on Christmas Eve after Church for dinner.  It's fun, easy, quick, and doesn't require a lot of clean-up.  We always use pretty Christmas paper plates that we throw away and the only dishes are the fondue pot and sticks and the bowl from the bread.  Since Grandpa Doughty was here with us, I invited my parents to join us for Church and stay for Fondue.  They took us up on the offer.

Being Methodist, my parents have Communion infrequently; anywhere from once a month to once a quarter.  Some Methodist churches never have Communion, but my father's has always scheduled it periodically, if not so regularly.  And, being Methodist, grape juice is used rather than wine.  This is a throw-back to the days when Methodists were all tea-tottlers and did not "imbibe".

In the middle of a wild, raucous Church Service, a few minutes of peace and introspection were carved out during Communion.  As I walked back to the pew from the altar, quietly pensive and pondering the birth of our Lord, I sat down next to my mother, then kneeled to pray.  After a few moments with Jesus, I sat back down.  Mom leaned over to me and quietly whispered in my ear,

"That was really good wine they were serving!"