As my four cousins, sister, and I stepped out the door last night the grass was green and the cement dry. No snow the day before Christmas Eve, but that wasn’t going to prevent us from caroling around the neighborhood.
It didn’t take long to get the giggles going. At our first stop I almost lost it during Hark! the Herald Angels Sing as we sang on a porch and watched through a window as a man in Star Wars pajamas raced around the house in attempt to catch his dog so he could open the front door. He eventually caught Toto, opened the door in time to hear the final stanza, and gave us all peppermints in exchange for our song that was really filled with more laughter than music.
The next hour and a half passed quickly as we found ourselves singing to a lonely dog through a front window, being assured there was $100 for each of us waiting in a mailbox, and delighting several families as they ooed and awed over our seasonal singing.
“Where are you from?”
“Oh we’re just relatives. Some of us live in the neighborhood.”
“Well, you all have such lovely voices! You would think you’re an actual group or something!”
No, not an actual group. Just a bunch of goofy cousins who like to sing Christmas carols in three part harmony at the top of their lungs on the night before Christmas Eve.
We were having a grand time indeed, but we experienced pure holiday magic when we realized big, fluffy snowflakes were falling from the sky. We decided to start singing Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! and White Christmas at each house, and it was wonderful to see people’s faces as they opened the door to six carolers standing in a snowfall that looked like it came straight from the North Pole. We surprised our own parents when we returned home and started singing on their front porch. They hadn’t realized it was snowing, and I think the moment they opened the door and saw us standing there was the most magical of all.