THE FAULT OF THE CAROLS

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 9, Issue 32, 14 December 1945, Page 12 (Supplement)

THE FAULT OF THE CAROLS

There was to have been 110 .sentiment this Christmas : no heart llutterings at the .sight of glossy leaves and red, berries no pushing with the crowd in front of the card and calendar counter no loitering bel'ore .shop windows dressed up in spangled cotton.-wool, with little white lumps dangling suggestively in rows from the ceiling and a sprinkle of "frost" elegantly distributed over the fancy goods. There was to have been no childish delight over the sight of Christmas trees brilliant with electric bulbs ; over the illuminated windows'of old churches. reminiscent of the painted card of along ago that lit up mysteriously when held against the light Everything was to have been sensible and matter of fact. For why one should mistletoe make any dilfcfence j or turkeys or mince pies. Why should one go out of one's way to purchase small presents that no one particularly wants, and wrap them up in fancy paper, and fumble with greeting cards slung on bits of red string? Far better to spend one's time in getting things done—emptying the stocking basket for instance, and mending the lining of one's winter coat. That would be using Christmas- in a really practical way. So one argued in November holding to one's principles with unshaken zeal; maintaining an air of superior aloofness even when December dawned t and refusing to be entangled in the web for a further week or two. And extremely subtle process! that began unawares and worked upi and up as Christmas Day approached. It was the fault of the carols. Someone has lately talked about the "sort of glory" of Christmas tide the wonder of ecstasy that embraces the child and is weakened to some degree ever after with the first notes of a carol. It is a strange thing. The carol may be out of tunc, issuing forth from the mouths of bad little boys- who mix the words up in a meaningless jumble ) and whose sole reason for singing at all is to get to the movies; yet the "sort of glory" is the glory that filled the word of Christmas night when we were j'oung. i did not hear the carol singers this year ? but I listened to the inharmonious efforts of a specially poor band gathered together round a lamp below my window. There was nothing Christmasy about the hour; it had been raining and a muggy dampness had settled over the town. The band played two verses of "The First Noel" badly then paused for a long time before adding two verses of "O Come, All Ye Faithful." During the next pause, I was convinced that they had given up and gone shamefacedly away. But It was wrong. A "feeble effort at "Auld Lang Syne" was made followed by another long pause # and then "Christian's .Awake." "Christians Awake" is not an api propriatc hymn to play for last ( thing at night but what did that matter? As 1 listened the whole of i ? J Christmas was in the room the i whole of Christmas, the full glory that shone upon one's childhood and j placed a halo round every simple thing. It will be the same next ycar ? and 1 the year after that and every year so long as carols last. j.