Hear the angels sing

I'm gett'n long in the tooth now. But look'n back so many decades when I was a lad and Shep was a pup, there was those Christmas that always seemed like 20-30 below. The new cabin wasn't too far from the little Catholic Church.

"Don't be late sez mom as she hurried me out the door, it'll be warm at the Church."

I remember the crunch of the snow under foot as I walked to practice the Christmas hymns. Mrs. Ver Schnider would be there to play the organ. Mom didn't always practice 'cause she knew them all by heart. I often wonder now if she knew that many of those hymns were written by Charles Wes...