Alabaster's Song (2 page)

And from that little angel came
the most beautiful music. He put
back his head and filled our house
with a melody only heaven had
heard and only heaven could make.
He sang and sang like God himself
was listening. I put my head on my pillow and listened until I opened
my eyes and the sun was up and it
was Christmas morning.

“Get up!” It was my dad shaking me. “Come and see your presents.”

I jumped out of bed and ran to the tree. There
was everything I'd asked for. I was so excited
I forgot all about Alabaster and his song.

Soon all the presents were
opened, and we all sat around
talking and laughing and looking
at the new stuff. That's when I
heard the song again. Alabaster's
song. The room was full of it.

I looked up. Little
Alabaster was on the tree
with his head back and his
mouth open. He was singing.
Just like he had the night before.

I looked around at my family. No one
else was looking at the angel. They were all
talking like nothing was happening.

“Do you hear the singing?” I asked my dad.

“No.”

“Do you, Mom?”

“No,” she answered.

No one else heard him. But I heard him,
as clear as if I were on the tree next to
him. His head was turned toward the
window, and he was singing to Jesus,
just like he had done that first night
in Bethlehem.

The next Christmas, when I was
seven, I heard him again. And the
next. He would stop at my bed on
Christmas Eve and sing. And from the
top of the tree on Christmas
morning, he would sing to Jesus.

Every year I saw him. Every year I
heard him. Then I got older.

I forgot to look for him. I forgot
to listen for him. After a few
Christmases, I didn't hear him
anymore. I forgot about his song.
Till today. Today is Christmas.

And this morning as we opened
presents, I noticed that my little boy
was looking at the angel on the tree.

After a moment he turned to me and
said, “Do you hear the song, Daddy?”