Christmas Eve 1966

On December 20 2008, I sent the following email to 2 girls that had attended a small French parochial elementary school with me. Although I reconnected in person with one of my classmates in 2001, I accidentally found the other one in a Google search and her business website appeared. I emailed her and was thrilled to get her excited response and a promise that we would see each other soon.
After receiving this email, both (ahem...50 something) girls replied with their memories of this last Christmas Eve we shared together....

I hope reading this will transport you back in time and encourage you to reconnect with a young (old) friend.






Hello!
I have the radio tuned to Christmas Carols, and just heard "Il est ne le divin Enfant".

I was immediately transported in time to the basement of Eglise St. Sacrement on Christmas Eve...grade 6 or 7....Wow!
I don't think we ever sang upstairs did we?

I can hear the creak of the bleachers as we took our place in an orderly fashion, and how we had to stand so still on them....I wonder now if that was because they weren't very strong and the nuns were afraid if we moved, we'd collapse! Or was it because the nuns liked conformity....a trait that you both seemed to have escaped.. thank goodness!
I remember how nervous I was to make a mistake and I'm sure my voice was a challenge for Soeur; I still sing only in the car when the top and windows are up! But Cecile, I remember your voice singing solo ~ so strong and clear, although I recall you always had a cold at the time of the concert! (And you still sound terrific, I've listened to your samples on your website...I especially love 'The Serenity Prayer'.)
I can smell the old wood of the stairs leading to the downstairs foyer, hear the thud of the doors as someone arrived late for Midnight Mass. I would scan the audience to be sure my dad & brother were in the audience, but I was especially happy when my mom wasn't working her nursing shift and could join us. I can hear the muffled coughs of the congregation, breathing the stale heated air and searching for a spot on their chair for their too warm coat as they turn around to smile at their prodigy singing in the back of the room; the smell of the incense as it was clanged into the hall, down the aisle led with the procession of our male classmates who certainly appeared angelic in white...but we knew better....Roger, Peter and others whose names are long forgotten, most likely because they didn't cause such a ruckus for Soeur.

It has been a lifetime since we shared Christmas Eve and the first hour of Christmas Day together. Our paths have taken us in hugely different directions; I'm grateful that email can allow me to wish you both "Joyeux Noel et Bonne Annee".

Adieu mes amies!