O Come, All Ye Faithful

Inspired by the hilarious recollections of several readers on the last thread, I have been inspired to rat out Mom, um, I mean share a special memory from my dear mother's childhood. I'm not certain how old she was, though I'm guessing early teens. Don't worry if I'm wrong - once she gets back from town and sees what I've done, she'll be sure to correct any errors.

It was nearing Christmas, back in those days of long ago. I'm pretty sure they didn't still put candles on the Christmas trees, but in hindsight, that might have been safer.

Mom and one of her childhood friends were rattling around the mission compound in Honolulu, trying to figure out something to do. What they finally lit upon (snort) was the fine plan of each lighting a candle, then marching in circles around the room, singing "O Come, All Ye Faithful".

I'm sure they thought they would sound very splendid, and they probably did. Right up until Mom's hair caught fire. 

The stately, familiar carol had never heard notes quite as high and piercing as emerged that day. It may not have heard them since. I am told that dolphins several miles off shore became inexplicably agitated, leaping and twisting as if trying to stay out of the water as long as possible.

Compared to that, the story of nursing class and the bunsen burner is quite tame. "Look, Ma, no bangs."

You'll be glad to hear that she did eventually stop lighting herself on fire. Most of you probably will, too.

Until the next conflagration,

Noni Beth