Track 17: Silent Night – Celtic Woman
Excerpt Taken From Three Wise Gifts By Elaine Cannon
Soft is the sound of Christmas. Soft has other definitions but it speaks of Christmas to me.
Soft songs. Carols heard through muting snowflakes. “Silent Night,” a sacramental hymn the meeting before Christmas. Primary children cooing “Jesus Once Was a Little Child.” Toddlers caught up, and believing, tirelessly humming lullabies to the Baby Jesus in the family creche. “O Little Town of Bethlehem” on the car radio—cozy-calm in a traffic jam.
Soft lights—votive candles, ebbing coals on the hearth, tiny twinkles on the tree, flashlight in Santa’s attic or on garage rafters.
Soft answers turning away unwanted wrath from stressful preparations for joy.
Soft whispering, shared secrets, sweet murmuring beneath the mistletoe. Soft touch, new emotion, deeper, finer.
Soft embraces friend for friend, for relatives coming home, for neighbours bearing tasty offerings, as part of the “Behold your little ones” goodnight ritual.
Soft, so soft, the skin of an infant.
Soft, calming, too, when Luke 2 is read aloud last thing Christmas Eve.
Soft memories of Christmases past, and with it all, the softening of the heart with gifts that mean more than money can buy.