Sounds of the Season
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Tuesday December 22 2015, 7:37 PM

Christmas is the season with what I consider the most awesome music of any time of year, from the religious carols to the classics like White Christmas. Did you know that White Christmas was written by Irvin Berlin? Bet most of you do. Irvin Berlin was Jewish, yet he wrote that song and the music for the movie "White Christmas" which contains some wonderful songs. Another Christmas standard, recorded by almost every artist who has ever done a Christmas song, is "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" written by Hugh Martin with Lyrics by Ralph Blane. That song was introduced to the world in the 1944 MGM Musical "Meet Me in St. Louis".

[caption id="attachment_6311" align="alignright" width="259"]Meet Me in St. Louis Meet Me in St. Louis[/caption]

The movie starred, among others, Judy Garland who sang that song in the movie. You know how it goes, I'm sure "Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas, let your heart be light". Did you know it was originally written as "Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas; it may be your last"? You have to remember that this was 1944 and we were involved in World War II, which, when the song was written, was far from being scored in the victory column for the Allied Forces. It was Judy Garland who refused to sing the song as written and it was upon her insistence that the lyrics were changed to be more upbeat. I do like it better the way Judy changed it, but the lyrics have, in fact, been re-written at least a half-dozen times since 1944. One of the more current re-writes is more or less a Christian Carol called, "Have Yourself a Blessed Little Christmas".

The stories abound that both "White Christmas" and "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" were huge favorites among our fighting troops in both theaters of war in World War II. There are many stories told of entire audiences of battled hardened soldiers shedding tears when either of those two songs was sung in USO Performances. I can only imagine the feelings of those fighting men as they were missing the most family oriented season of the year as they fought for our freedom.

When Ann and I were decorating our Christmas tree on the Friday after Thanksgiving, we turned the television on to the music channel featuring "Sounds of the Season".  For several hours, we listened to song after song, most of which brought back memories of certain Christmases in my life. When they played "I'll be Home for Christmas", I remembered the ONE year, the ONE time, when I was not home for Christmas. The U.S. Navy had the need for me to stay on board ship for Christmas that one year, and as it was a small ship with only 55 enlisted men and 5 officers, the few of us required to remain were very few indeed. I remember that Christmas morning when the 12 or so of us gathered for breakfast and most were melancholy at best being away from home at Christmas. I was sitting across the table from Ray Gentry, my good friend from Danville, Virginia, when I suddenly broke out singing that song. Ray said "but you aren't home".  We laughed and that got the entire crew of 12 singing Christmas songs. As you might would expect from this group of immature sailors, it was the Twelve Days of Christmas that rocked the ship the hardest. By the end of that Christmas Day I never, and I mean NEVER wanted to hear that song again. You know, some sailors, with their vocabulary and imagination can do wonders with such things as the "Maids A-Milking" which I would dare not intone here tonight. Just suffice it to say that Christmas song is off my top forty list.

Setting the music aside for a minute, other sounds of the season resonate with me as well. The sounds of the hustle and bustle of the mall as shoppers “rush by with their treasures".  Ann and I used to go to the mall on Christmas Eve in the morning just to sit and watch shoppers as they scurried from store to store in that last-minute dash to find that last gift. Shopping much like Jeff Gilder does I am guessing, last-minute. I know I still haven't received my gift from Jeff and its only two more days until Christmas. Oh well, I didn't send him one either so I guess its okay.

One of the things I most enjoyed during the season at the mall was sitting close enough to the Santa there to hear what the little kids were telling Santa to bring them. I often wish I had kept notes of some of those conversations because the book that could be written from those notes would be astounding. You hear everything from the selfish request for a pony, to the unselfish request of this one kid who asked Santa to bring his Daddy a cure for his cancer. You just never know what a kid is going to say. Wasn't it Art Linkletter who made a fortune off the books "Kids Say the Darnest Things"?

I remember the Sounds of the Season when I was growing up when my Mother and Father would whisper about things we three boys were not supposed to hear. Every year, even when we thought we had figured out what we were getting from Santa, we never did get it right. But you know what? Each of us boys got at least one thing we had asked Santa for and thinking back as to how hard those days were for my parents financially, that was a Christmas miracle.

When Ann and I got married, our first Christmas as a family was Christmas of 1983. I remember our son Mark, who was then 14, wanted a basketball goal. I truly had to travel to Newberry to get the actual metal goal (still in our backyard, now holding bird feeders) and borrowed my Dad's truck to haul it. Christmas morning dawned bright and sunny but only 5 degrees. Of course Mark wanted that goal in place so he and I were out there with post hole diggers making a hole in which to set the pole. When it came time to pour the cement around it, I remember that as a disaster, but somehow we got that basketball goal set up and for the rest of that sub-freezing day. The sound of the season was a basketball being dribbled up and down the driveway and the occasional rattle of the basket as the ball would go in. I played for a while, but the cold eventually sent me inside to the sound of the crackling fire. Something in the blood of that 14-year-old kept him going all day outside.

Truly, Christmas time is filled with the sounds of the season that bring memories, good and bad, of Christmases past and thoughts of Christmases, hopefully, yet to come.

Since our grand kids came along, Christmas mornings are once more filled with the sound of excitement as the young ones, getting older now and not quite so noisy, open presents and laugh happily at the surprises discovered in the brightly colored paper. Our three granddaughters live in New Hampshire but we had them all here last Christmas and that was really special. Three girls and three boys celebrating Christmas brought us the sounds of joy and happiness of which the season is really all about. The sounds of the season mean so much to me.

Let's give a thought to sounds we have not yet discussed. Let's go back to a night on a hillside outside of a small town in the Middle East. Listen to the fire crackle as the shepherds gather close to stay warm on the crystal clear winter's night. Hear the sounds of the sheep, not quite content to be quiet on such a starry night. As the shepherds talk lowly among themselves, there is suddenly a booming sound from the heavens as an Angel appears. The Angel tells the shepherds "fear not, for unto you is born this day, in the City of David, a Savior who is Christ the Lord". Then, the next sound the shepherds hear is a band of Angels singing praises to God. Wow!!!! Think of that. What sounds those must have been!!!!

As the story goes, the shepherds decided to go into Bethlehem to see the thing the Angels had made known to them. I know the song, "Away in A Manger" tells us that "The Little Lord Jesus no crying he makes", but I sort of think there may have been a little cry or two, or, at the very least, the gurgling that little babies make. Surely, that was the sound of the season humankind would forever bless.

Franz Gruber wrote the beautiful "Silent Night, Holy Night" for a Christmas Eve service long ago. The story goes that mice had eaten through the bellows of the organ in the church so the song was sung to guitar. In actuality, Gruber had written the guitar accompaniment to the lyric by Father Joseph Mohr of St. Nicholas Parish Church in Oberndorf, Austria. As beautiful as that song is, Christmas Eve is not the night to be silent. It is the night for "Joy to The World" to ring out loud and strong.

As each of us reflects on the sounds of the seasons of our life, I hope that we each have the joyful music playing in our hearts. I hope the joy of the season, the joy first heard from a manger in a stable so long ago, reverberates through our lives each day.  As Christmas day comes to a close Friday, I hope that you each will be filled with the joy of the sounds of the season. I hope that we will each be blessed with the special sounds of happiness as little kids experience the joy of seeing what Santa left under the tree. Let's think about keeping the sounds of the Christmas Season year 'round. I would like that. Just don't do me with the Twelve Days of Christmas. As Tiny Tim would say, "God bless us EVERYONE".

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