The night was dark as newcomers to rural life gathered with seasoned country folk at the village hall. Lanterns were lit and music distributed. Last minute instructions given and we were off. People from all walks of life were there, Men and Women, Children, Carpenters, Farmers, Scholars, Artists, Dealers, Teachers, Clerks and Bankers. All had gathered to sing carols to the king.
As we walked the moonlit lanes up steps and down I thought; Were it not for Christmas, this diverse group of people would not be stumbling together through muddy and ever narrowing corridors of yew, beech and hawthorn hedge.
Carolling this year was a joyful and bibulous affair. With many new voices and reinforced by sherry it was miraculous that the singing held together despite the sopranos ‘neshing’ the descant more than once.
Carols bring together people who have nothing in common except that they sing of a baby’s birth, and kneel in church together to hear the prayers their parents heard. For some of us, the old solid stone walls of the church do not echo the prayers of the day, but rather radiate out the thoughts and prayers of those whose voices shall no more speak and chant and sing, Hark the Herald Angels sing Glory to the new born King.
The Organ plays, the Vicar speaks,
The candles flicker and old pews creak.
For those who listen the old walls say
Hope is here this Christmas day.
View from the Pew 
Enjoyed reading this.
This being the very first article I’ve read on your site.
Only yesterday evening I got out a box from a cupboard looking for an item. It had a number of books inside (four books) and they were identical.
The four books had carols written in them and they were for children.
I remember the Christmas they were given to us by a church friend some 33 years ago and the enjoyment we had singing carols with the boys.
Excitement always erupted when they were retrieved each year to sit down and sing as we all knew it was a time to rejoice as Christmas approached.
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