Prima Vox Fire & Ice: during

We Voxes hid out downstairs and listened to the crowd arriving at the church. At 7:10, we got the news: the church was standing room only and it looked like everyone had arrived.

So we tiptoed up the stairs, crept over the icy sidewalk outside and entered the church from the back just in time to hear Reverend Ursula, again our mistress of ceremonies, welcoming everyone with this reading, written about the walk to midnight Mass in a French country place almost 100 years ago…

We started off, a number of us, together in a stream of light. Our lanterns cast great shadows on the white road, crisp with frost. As our little group advanced it saw others on their way, people from the farm and people from the mill, who joined us, and once on the Place de l’Eglise we found ourselves with all the parishioners in a body. No one spoke — the icy north wind cut short our breath; but the voice of the chimes filled the silence. We entered, accompanied by a gust of wind that swept into the porch at the same time we did; and the splendours of the altar, studded with lights, green with pine and laurel branches, dazzled us from the threshold.

We began to sing from the back of the church, processed and so the concert started.

Here we are, singing "Stella Splendens": me, Sara and Ann.

And Ursula, watching from the background.

Sara sang "Edi Beo Thu Hevene Quene"

while I accompanied her on my harp.

It was magical. Icy outside, warm inside. Captivated audience, beautiful little church, candles blazing. Chants and carols and songs and harps. It couldn't have been more perfect.