Michael's Wish, part 10

Michael stood in front of the barony's congregation and cleared his throat. It wasn't that Michael couldn't sing; it was the open secret that was now laid bare at his feet. “Unfortunately, Lord Wallace is indisposed at this time and will be unable to perform tonight. I was unprepared for this moment and, ahem, am not sure what to perform.”

“Well,” said the deacon, “just perform a simple song about Christ's birth.”

Michael mind was still on his brother and the image of him coming home a physical, pulpy wreck. “I'm sorry, my mind is a million miles away. Any suggestions?”

“If you're not up to the task, don't force yourself.”

Michael realized he wasn't up to the task of performing for the audience a capella, but he also knew he needed to expiate his inner woe somehow. Music is the closest humans come, emotionally, to magic, and he knew the right song would help.

He put down the Book of Common Prayers and picked up a children's song sheet. “One song,” he murmured, “I can get through at least one song.”

Without much forethought, he started on the song right beneath his thumb:

“O... holy night, the stars, their gleams prolonging,

Watch oe'r the Eve of our dear Saviour's birth.

Long lay the world in sin and error, longing

For His appearance, then the Spirit felt its worth.

A thrill of hope; the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

Fall on your knees! O, hear the angel voices!

O night divine, the night when Christ was Born;

Oh night, O holy night, O night divine!

Suddenly the song was less being sung by Michael than channeling the hope within him:

Minuit, chrétiens, c'est l'heure solennelle,

Où l'Homme-Dieu descendit jusqu'à nous

Pour effacer la tache originelle

Et de Son Père arrêter le courroux.

Le monde entier tressaille d'espérance

En cette nuit qui lui donne un Sauveur.

Peuple à genoux, attends ta délivrance.

Noël, Noël, voici le Rédempteur,

Noël, Noël, voici le Rédempteur!

De notre foi que la lumière ardente

Nous guide tous au berceau de l'Enfant,

Comme autrefois une étoile brillante

Y conduisit les chefs de l'Orient.

Le Roi des rois naît dans une humble crèche:

Puissants du jour, fiers de votre grandeur,

A votre orgueil, c'est de là que Dieu prêche.

Courbez vos fronts devant le Rédempteur.

Courbez vos fronts devant le Rédempteur.

Le Rédempteur a brisé toute entrave:

La terre est libre, et le ciel est ouvert.

Il voit un frère où n'était qu'un esclave, (a tear fell down his cheek at this line)

L'amour unit ceux qu'enchaînait le fer.

Qui Lui dira notre reconnaissance,

C'est pour nous tous qu'Il naît, qu'Il souffre et meurt.

Peuple debout! Chante ta délivrance,

Noël, Noël, chantons le Rédempteur,

Noël, Noël, chantons le Rédempteur!

The rapture from the song ensconced him a golden glow. He sat down by the lecturn and fainted, still smiling.

(The poem Cantique de Noël is by Placide Cappeau and was set to music by Adolphe Adam in 1847)