“BIRDS OF NOEL”
By: Judith E Vido
Scriptures of Christian teaching tell us that a multitude of angels, joined by the heavenly host, filled the skies with song on the night Jesus was born. This one event is the fuel of religious zealots, spiritual salvation for the downtrodden, and the inspiration for the most beautiful music dear to Christian hearts.
When I was in grade school one of my most prized possessions was a small booklet my third, or possibly my fourth grade teacher handed out to our class. The booklet contained the lyrics to all of our favorite Christmas carols. Together we would gather and sing every song until we knew at least one verse by heart.
During the holiday season, our song booklets were always with us. Small enough to easily fit into a coat pocket, we would sing whenever given an opportunity. A group would break into song on the bus going home. Girls on the playground would gather to sing when too cold for the jungle gym. One day a week a class would entertain after lunch in the school cafeteria.
All of the melodies were lovely. Singing them became the treat of our eight-year-old lives. It meant Christmas was near. It meant holiday fun, decorations, presents -- and no school for the longest time.
I still look back on those days and times and find myself humming one of my favorites. “Oh Little Town of Bethlehem” or “It Came Upon The Midnight Clear” and my all time favorite “The First Noel”.
The latter I shall never forget. “The First Noel” sprang to my lips as I walked my mother’s country acre in nineteen ninety. I loved walking the property, checking out all the trees, shrubbery, and pansy beds my mother once kept with pride.
Exiting the house that morning, the first thing of notice was the absolute quiet. On this Christmas morn all was still, nothing disturbed the silence. After five or ten minutes, a single car turned into Long Bridge Road just up from the house. Then, again, perfect calm, and the silence was enthralling. Crisp, cold Christmas air mixed with bright golden sunshine. Everything was clean, clear, and wonderful.
Working my way along the edge of mother’s land, I ended up at the end of the drive by the road. I stopped and stood, still amazed at the utter quiet of the day. Only on Christmas day, I thought to myself as I started up the drive. My steps crunched on gravel, sparking a beat.
“The first Noel, the angels did say,” my strong contralto voice broke the silence that had become almost too eerie to stand. I moved upward on the hill of the drive and realized as I sang, I was not alone.
I stopped. I stood quietly listening. Nothing broke the silence. With a shake of my head, I began singing again and proceeded along the drive. At the top of the hill, I softened my song to discover the sounds I could only hear as I sang.
A group of birds accompanied me. As long as I sang, they sang. When I paused; they paused. Still vocalizing softly, I listened carefully. Four, no five individual bird voices were distinct and identifiable.
I couldn’t remember the musical term for their soft sweet tones that backed up my lead, but I recognized their joy. I sang out. They joined me, matched me in a full, rich rejoicing of Christmas day. I stood spellbound in the moment, knowing the day’s silence was to a purpose.
“The First Noel” with bird’s choral trills, Filled the quiet stage as the Creators had patiently awaited the performance.
© Judith E. Vido February 2009
