Here We Come A-Caroling

It all began with a little girl, her aunt-friend and their conspiring whispers behind the recliner one Sunday afternoon.  Or was it a little girl and the movie she watched about colonial Felicity?  Maybe it was both, but somehow the little girl determined that this was the year to go Christmas caroling.  Her idea began brewing in October so many weeks passed, weeks of planning and hoping and more secret whispers with her 8-year-old aunt.  Weeks of excitement when she pleaded, "Can't we carol in the fall?"   Weeks of paging through her Christmas carol book and learning lyrics and asking Mama to sing along. 

And suddenly there was only one week to go.  The days seemed to move slower than the weeks had as excitement mounted.  The little girl and her young aunt planned coordinating outfits.  Outfits that were to be worn in the dark night under coats. Outfits that did not take into account the frigid temperatures and blustery wind.  Outfits that had to be tweaked by more-practical mamas. 

But tonight was the night.  We ate an early hearty dinner, hoping to store warmth in our bellies.  Then we all bustled up the stairs where Mama had clothes and more clothes and socks and hats and mittens laid out for each little person.  Then the little girl put on her boots and hopped on one foot by the door, waiting to venture out.  Baby was the last to get ready.  Alas the little girl's magic had not rubbed off on him for he screamed as his hands were encased in mittens and his snowsuit made it too difficult to toddle without falling over.  Daddy pulled the wagon out of winter hibernation and nestled our boy onto the seat.

We moved out into one of the chilliest nights so far this season.  But caroling just wouldn't seem right if  cheeks and tips of noses didn't tingle, you know?  And so the six of us filed out and joined the rest of our group on the sidewalk and began our neighborhood trek.  We sang songs of praise and songs for fun, but each came bubbling out of joyful  (and did I mention cold?) lips.  We sang "Jingle Bells" one too many times as the children marched out in front of our procession.  We sang "Joy to the World" as families gathered around their steamed-up doors to listen.  We sang "O Come All Ye Faithful" as an older lady stepped out on her stoop to smile at the children.  We sang "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" as a little boy opened his upstairs window and peered down on us with a grin and called his grandfather to watch, too. 

Later as the little girl sat at the kitchen table sipping hot chocolate, her pink  flannel nightgown wrapped around still-cool legs, I asked her, "Was it what you hoped it would be?" 

And she replied, "Can we go again next year?"