“Julie came home.”
He hushed into our room to wake me with the news. Dad was the first one up, and first thing he did was put his head to the front window, looking through the blinds to the dark. He never said it, but I could tell.
He was hoping too.
What sweeter music can we bring
Than a carol, for to sing
The birth of this our heavenly King?
Awake the voice! Awake the string!
Dark and dull night, fly hence away
And give the honor to this day
That sees December turned to May
That sees December turned to May.
~What Sweeter Music~