“To console those who mourn in Zion,
To give them beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
That they may be called trees of righteousness,
The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.”
I
was barely a teenager when I got the opportunity to join the church choir. The
director, Miss Moreland, was my neighbor. She drove my two sisters and me to
and from choir practice each week leading up to Christmas. We were preparing to
sing for midnight mass. I had never even stayed up late enough to attend
midnight mass, let alone sing for it. What a privilege!
Our
practices were held in the choir loft. I remember climbing those creaky stairs
for the first time. I found myself rising higher and higher until the wooden
rafters surrounded me, as the loft was situated in the ridge of the roof, its
sloping walls on either side. I remember finding a seat on a bench next
to my school friend Rocky and being in awe as I peered over the rail at the
rows of pews below, which seemed so small from my new vantage point.
