My fellow blogger, 1st Mate, just posted about her struggle of coming to terms with Christmas.
"Then something kicks in: a certain song (the Hallelujah Chorus works every time), a certain smell (cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom and clove, or else fir trees)."
For me, the smell is oranges. But I am with her on The Hallelujah Chorus. I can remembering hearing it on our stereo at home.
It thrilled me -- as a fourth grader. Even the tale we heard from our music teacher of George II's admiration for the song didn't take the shine off of it -- even in my republican eyes.
It became a staple of every Christmas. And I have not tired of it. Its first simple, repetitive notes stir the same sense of awe.
I thought I would pass along two bits of wonder I recently received from a friend.
The first is the chorus "sung" by silent monks. If you do not concurrently feel joy and mirth, Christmas is definitely not your season.
For a more orthodox presentation, you might like the second -- even though the venue is a bit creative. (I tried to fix the width issue -- to no avail.)
If I do not say it next week, I wish all of you a very orangey Merry Christmas. May you have all of the joy in your life that this season offers.
