Secondly, I'd love to tell you a story of social straining sorts (alliteration is my gift to you). Well, maybe it's more of a caught-in-a-funny-looking-situation kind of story. I'll let you decide.
It all took place at the Choral Candlelight Service in the massive Westminster Church on Christmas Eve. We, as a family, were awaiting our sixth member that night and decided to attend this organ-filled, choral gathering first. The problem was that we were going to leave early in order to greet my sister at the airport upon her arrival. Her flight came in at around 11:22pm and the Choral service began at 11:00pm. I was perplexed. How were we ever going to enjoy the service and get to the airport on time?! I asked my Dad this and all he said in response was, "We'll wing it." "Alright, we'll wing it," I chuckled in response while placing my toque down beside me on the pew.
We had arrived half an hour early to take in the "Carols on the Organ" portion of the evening. As the congregation began to pile in, and the sanctuary began to fill up, we couldn't believe how everyone was still chattin'-it-up. The organ player flawlessly pounded out epic Christmas Carols and justly deserved all of the attention in the room (the organ is such a powerful instrument; it's mesmerizing to me). Eleven o'clock came around and the choir had yet to make their entrance. We were getting antsy. Finally, at 11:05pm they came streaming down the aisles, candles in hand, singing a triumphant "O Come All Ye Faithful!"
The moment it ended, the congregation was asked to sit down. And everyone did... as far as I knew. I looked to my left and there, making an abrupt escape into the aisle, was my family. I was sitting on the inner end of the pew, so I was startled but quickly followed suit as we all marched out. We had to endure the quizzical stares (especially from the elderly usher) from those behind us of course. We were laughing because it looked as though we had agreed as a family to come for only one song, and that would be our fill for the holiday.
As we were crossing the street I came to the sudden realization that I had LEFT MY TOQUE ON OUR PEW! This was a dilemma. I didn't want to leave one of my favourite toques in the clutches of some stranger. I had to go back. My family laughed at my circumstance. We had just made this grand peculiar exit, and now I was going to have to go back and retrieve my toque—while looking like a fool?! ... Utter social turmoil.
I prepared myself with some motivational self-talk and then proceeded to run up the Church's front steps, back into the fray. I walked like I was on a mission. Getting to our pew was the easy part, nobody had filled our left void. The worst part was leaving, as well as the fact that the congregation was still seated in silence, listening to the choral conductor speak. I made it to the pew and as I ducked reaching for the toque, I caught the look from the elderly woman beside it. I sheepishly said, "Sorry... Merry Christmas," half laughing as she responded with a chuckle. I marched back up the aisle, and again, I had to endure the piercing stares. This time however, I counteracted with some staring of my own. Muahaha, it worked! They immediately whipped their glances back to the front of the sanctuary. I whizzed past the elderly usher whispering "Merry Christmas," (with a big smile) and I was out! I ran back to my family filled with relief and laughter. Mission accomplished.
Anyways, I think there's a Life Lesson embedded in this story somewhere:
When someone says, "We'll wing it," be on your toes at all times.
Cheers!
~~~
Stay tuned for my second annual Top 10 Albums of the Year (in my opinion of course)! Check out my 2010 list HERE.
