“There it’s done,” Joe thought, and none too soon either. He glanced over at the clock on the mantel. “Not too bad. I still have some time to catch a bite to eat before I have to leave.”
It’d been a busy fall and he was tired. Joe sat back in his chair and deeply stretched. He looked forward to having the day off tomorrow. Finally, a day to relax and enjoy time with friends in the area since it was too far to visit with his family.
He needed to get up and move. “Been sitting here way too long,” he mumbled as he turned to look out at the waning sunlight streaming through the windows. Getting up, he wandered across the room to stretch his legs.
Something niggled at him though. Something was still missing. Walking around his cramped apartment, it came to him. He hurried back over to his desk and rifled through the cluttered piles. “Where did I put that,” he mumbled. “Ah, there it is.”
Joe drew out a poem. Pretty simple, really, but it was just what he needed to finish off his message tonight.
As his stomach rumbled, reminding him that it was long past his normal lunchtime, he had a crazy thought. Grabbing his jacket and hat, along with the poem, he rushed out the door.
Maria saw Joe coming swiftly up the walk. “Wonder what he wants at this time of day,” she thought, “and on such a busy day. He looks like a man on a mission.”
Her husband, Frank, opened the door allowing the frosty air to quickly drop the temperature in their quarters. “Tonight will be cold,” she thought, “I better plan to wear an extra layer when we head to services.”
Joe burst out with, “Frank, I need your help. I need some music for this poem I want to use tonight in the service. It doesn’t have to be fancy, something simple on your guitar. You and I can sing it together. It’ll be great! Do you think you can come up with something?”
“Unbelievable! It’s almost dinner time and he comes with this kind of request?!” Maria thought aghast at Joe’s audacity. At the same time she heard Frank quietly say, “Well, let me take a look at it.”
That was her husband. So very talented.
Frank walked over to his office area and sat down with the poem. Soon he picked up his guitar and strummed a little. Meanwhile, Joe paced. Maria offered him some coffee and a piece of her special holiday cake she’d finished a few hours ago, anything to stop his irritating pacing.
With only a few more hours until services, Frank played a simple melody on the guitar. Not quite satisfied, he made a few more changes. “Come over here, Joe, and let’s try this out. Here, I’ll sing the melody and you see what you come up with for harmony.”
Quietly, softly, Frank began to sing. Joe listened as Frank strummed the first notes of the new song. It was beautiful. Simple, yes, but it drew Joe in. Soon Maria was there, too, listening in awe as this simple melody, and Joe’s halting harmony, began to fill their small apartment.
Later that evening, as the services came to a close, Joe and Frank sang their song for the rest of the congregation. Breathtakingly beautiful in its simplicity, little did these two know the impact this simple song would have on the world.
Silent night, holy night,
Son of God, love’s pure light;
radiant beams from thy holy face
with the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth,
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth.
As you celebrate Jesus’ birthday on Friday, I pray that you will know His peace.
Merry Christmas from our house to you and yours.