You pass white robed orchestra members, their trumpets gleaming with recent polishing. The gold of the french harps is brighter than any star ever thought of being. Timpanis and cymbals also are making their way to the gathering place. There is excited chattering in the halls.
You make your way to the choir room for a final rehersal and warm up. Your new white dress is long and flowing, the silk making quiet whispers as your slippered feet hurry down the marble hall. Your stomach is dancing in anticipation. You have the most benevolant Father and you are so very grateful to Him. He knows of your love of music. You are not the most talented singer in the choir, more often than not your notes are off key. He knows, though, that your enthusiasm and love of the music and subject matter far outweigh any off notes. Besides, you are able to feel the music, and that is what really counts when you sing.
The director calls the choir to attention and all look at her. She is one of the most beautiful sisters there. Her brown flowing hair making a halo around her shining face. It is time.
You hear the Herald angel telling the shepherds to not be afraid. It is hard for you to imagine someone being afraid, but you have not yet had your earth turn, so there is that to consider.
The curtain opens on the stage and the strains of herald music is heard from the brass section. That always brings a quickness to your heart as well as a thrill. You look at the director. Her face is beaming. That beaming is reflected in everyone around you. In fact, it seems as if the whole heavens are filled with this light, a light that spills to the earth and bathes the shepherds in glory.
Oh how you love this feeling. It is time to tell the earth the first noel- the proclamation of a royal birth- and the strains are glorious and beautiful and fill your entire being. It is here, the birth onto earth of your beloved elder brother, and you, you get to tell the world.
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