|12/14/15 - NNHS Newsletter - Angels from The Realms of Glory|
“The earth has grown old with its
burden of care
But at Christmas it always is young,
The heart of the jewel burns lustrous and fair
And its soul full of music breaks the air,
When the song of angels is sung.”
Dear Friends and Schoolmates,
This now seems to be one of our more obscure Christmas carols, especially featuring this tune. I wonder why that is?
BONUS #1 - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kzktMFZJ2aU - Angels From The Realms Of Glory - Pipe Organ - Hi-Fi Hymn Book
BONUS #2 - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnRxH864-o0 - Angels From The Realms Of Glory - Annie Lennox, 2010
BONUS #3 - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gudxOtrUXO0 - Angels From The Realms Of Glory - Carson Newman University and Knoxville Choral Society, Dr. Eric Thorson conducting, Dan Forrest, piano, at the Tennessee Theater, November 16, 2014
|"Angels from the Realms of Glory" is a
Christmas carol written by Scottish poet
It was first printed in the
Sheffield Iris on
Christmas Eve 1816, though it only began to be sung in churches
after its 1825 reprinting in the Montgomery collection
The Christian Psalmist and in the
Religious Tract Society's
The Christmas Box or New Year's Gift.
Before 1928, the hymn was sung to a variety of tunes, including "Regent Square", "Lewes" by John Randall, and "Wildersmouth" or "Feniton Court" by Edward Hopkins. In the United States, the hymn is today most commonly sung to the tune of "Regent Square" by Henry Smart. In the United Kingdom, however, the hymn came to be sung to the French carol tune "Iris" (Les anges dans nos campagnes, the tune used for "Angels We Have Heard on High") after this setting was published in the Oxford Book of Carols. Sometimes the "Gloria in excelsis Deo" refrain is sung in place of Montgomery's original lyric: "Come and worship Christ the new-born King". On A Christmas Cornucopia, Annie Lennox sings this song but substitutes "Gloria in excelsis Deo" for the "Come and worship Christ the new-born King" refrain. Paul Poulton recorded a rock version of this song on his Grooves 4 Scrooge album.
THIS WEEK'S BIRTHDAYS:
Happy Birthday today to Elizabeth Mitchell Hedgepeth ('57) AND Kathie Avant Taylor ('64) of GA!
Happy Birthday tomorrow to Jewell Hamner Crowe ('57) AND Buster Vest ('63) of VA!
Happy Birthday this week to:
16 - Betty Brockwell McClure ('58) of MA;
17 - Norma Helmick Burks ('63) AND Tom Oxner ('65) of AR;
18 - James Strickland ('57);
19 - Durwood Adams ('57) AND The late Suzie Bauz ('63) (deceased 11/03/14);
20 - Ellen Carney Manson ('63) of SC;
21 - Ray Stinnette ('63) of VA!
Many Happy Returns, One and All!
THIS DAY IN WWII:
December 14, 1939 -
Soviet Union was expelled from the
League of Nations for invading
December 14, 1941 -
Japan signed a
treaty of alliance with
December 14, 1999 - U.S. and German negotiators agreed to establish a $5.2 billion fund for Nazi-era slave and forced laborers.
|THIS DAY IN 1965:|
|Tuesday, December 14, 1965 - Terrorist Sulaiman Abu Ghaith (سليمان بوغيث) was born in Kuwait.|
|“Here is something
more than a babe in a manger; here is the creator of all that is good
and beautiful. I have looked at majestic mountains rising high against
the blue sky and thought of Jesus, the creator of heaven and earth. I
have stood on the sand of an island in the Pacific and watched the dawn
rise like thunder--a ball of gold surrounded by clouds of pink and white
and purple--and thought of Jesus, the Word by whom all things were made
and without whom was not anything made that was made. I have seen a
beautiful child--bright-eyed, innocent, loving, and trusting--and
marveled at the majesty and miracle of creation. What then shall we do
with Jesus who is called Christ?”
B. Hinckley, December, 1983
From My Friend, Holly, of NC - 12/13/15:
|AMEN! Thank you, Holly!|
“ A day without sunshine is like, you know, night.”
(b. 14 Aug 1945)
From Joan Lauterbach Krause ('60) of VA - 12/13/14 - "CHRISTMAS AT A GAS STATION":
|Merry Christmas. A dear
friend sent this to me. If you haven’t seen it, enjoy it. :’)
|The old man sat in his gas
station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn't been anywhere in years since
his wife had passed away. It was just another day to him. He didn't hate
Christmas, just couldn't find a reason to celebrate. He was sitting
there looking at the snow that had been falling for the last hour and
wondering what it was all about when the door opened and a homeless man
Instead of throwing the man out, Old George as he was known by his customers, told the man to come and sit by the heater and warm up. "Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger. "I see you're busy, I'll just go."
"Not without something hot in your belly." George said.
He turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger. "It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty. Stew ... Made it myself. When you're done, there's coffee and it's fresh."
Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse me, be right back," George said. There in the driveway was an old '53 Chevy. Steam was rolling out of the front. The driver was panicked. "Mister can you help me!" said the driver, with a deep Spanish accent. "My wife is with child and my car is broken." George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from the cold, the car was dead.
"You ain't going in this thing," George said as he turned away.
"But Mister, please help." The door of the office closed behind George as he went inside. He went to the office wall and got the keys to his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building, opened the garage, started the truck and drove it around to where the couple was waiting. "Here, take my truck," he said. "She ain't the best thing you ever looked at, but she runs real good."
George helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped off into the night. He turned and walked back inside the office. "Glad I gave 'em the truck, their tires were shot too. That 'ol truck has brand new ones." George thought he was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone. The Thermos was on the desk, empty, with a used coffee cup beside it. "Well, at least he got something in his belly," George thought.
George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had been. He thought he would tinker with it for something to do. Christmas Eve meant no customers. He discovered that the block hadn't cracked, it was just the bottom hose on the radiator. "Well, shoot, I can fix this," he said to himself. So he put a new one on.
"Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter either." He took the snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln. They were like new and he wasn't going to drive the car anyway.
As he was working, he heard shots being fired. He ran outside and beside a police car an officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left shoulder, the officer moaned, "Please help me."
George helped the officer inside as he remembered the training he had received in the Army as a medic. He knew the wound needed attention. "Pressure to stop the bleeding," he thought. The uniform company had been there that morning and had left clean shop towels. He used those and duct tape to bind the wound. "Hey, they say duct tape can fix anything he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease.
"Something for pain," George thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. "These ought to work." He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills. "You hang in there, I'm going to get you an ambulance."
The phone was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box out in your car." He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the dashboard destroying the two way radio.
He went back in to find the policeman sitting up. "Thanks," said the officer. "You could have left me there. The guy that shot me is still in the area."
George sat down beside him, "I would never leave an injured man in the Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George pulled back the bandage to check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right through 'ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think with time you’re gonna be right as rain."
George got up and poured a cup of coffee. "How do you take it?" he asked.
"None for me," said the officer.
"Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the city. Too bad I ain't got no donuts." The officer laughed and winced at the same time.
The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a gun. "Give me all your cash! Do it now!" the young man yelled. His hand was shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like this before.
"That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer.
"Son, why are you doing this?" asked George, "You need to put the cannon away. Somebody else might get hurt."
The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!"
The cop reached for his gun. "Put that thing away," George said to him, "we got one too many in here now."
He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's Christmas Eve. If you need money, well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now put that pea shooter away."
George pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man, reaching for the barrel of the gun at the same time. The young man released his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began to cry. "I'm not very good at this am I? All I wanted was to buy something for my wife and son," he went on. "I've lost my job, my rent is due, my car got repossessed last week."
George handed the gun to the cop. "Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it through the best we can."
He got the young man to his feet, and sat him down on a chair across from the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things." George handed the young man a cup of coffee. "Bein' stupid is one of the things that makes us human. Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer. Now sit there and get warm and we'll sort this thing out."
The young man stopped crying, and looked at the cop. "Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I'm sorry, officer." he said.
"Shut up and drink your coffee," the policeman said.
George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an ambulance skidded to a halt. Two policemen came through the door, guns drawn. "Chuck! You OK?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer.
"Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?"
"GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man.
Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran."
George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other. "That guy work here?" the wounded cop continued.
"Yep," George said, "just hired him this morning. Boy lost his job."
The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the wounded cop and whispered, "Why?"
Chuck just said, "Merry Christmas boy ... and you too, George, and thanks for everything."
"Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That ought to solve some of your problems."
George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a ring box. "Here you go, something for the little woman. I don't think Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day."
The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. "I can't take this," said the young man. "It means something to you."
"And now it means something to you," replied George. "I got my memories. That's all I need."
George reached into the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck appeared next. They were toys that the oil company had left for him to sell. "Here's something for that little man of yours."
The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man had handed him earlier.
"And what are you supposed to buy Christmas dinner with? You keep that too," George said. "Now git home to your family."
The young man turned with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good."
"Nope. I'm closed Christmas day," George said. "See ya the day after."
George turned around and found the stranger had returned. "Where'd you come from? I thought you'd left?"
"I have been here. I have always been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas. Why?"
"Well, after my wife passed away, I just couldn't see what all the bother was. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by myself and besides I was gettin' a little chubby."
The stranger put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do celebrate the holiday, George. You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I was cold and hungry. The woman with child will bear a son and he will become a great doctor.
“The policeman you helped will go on to save 19 people from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to rob you will make you a rich man and not take any for himself. That is the spirit of the season and you keep it as good as any man."
George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And how do you know all this?" asked the old man.
"Trust me, George. I have the inside track on this sort of thing. And when your days are done you will be with Martha again."
The stranger moved toward the door. "If you will excuse me, George, I have to go now. I have to go home where there is a big celebration planned."
George watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that the stranger was wearing turned into a white robe. A golden light began to fill the room.
"You see, George... it's My birthday. Merry Christmas."
George fell to his knees and replied, "Happy Birthday, Lord Jesus."
This story is better than any greeting card. MERRY CHRISTMAS AND GOD BLESS!
Now clear the lump from your throat, blow your nose, and send this along to a friend of yours or someone who may need a reminder as to why we celebrate Christmas.
Tomorrow is not promised, - Cherish today!
Thank you so much for sharing this story, Joan!
From My Friend, Tammy, of UT - 12/07/14 - "Daily Christmas Story (#12 in a Series of 24)":
|This year I decided to
share some of my favorite Christmas stories and quotes. It is a
tradition in our family to read a Christmas story every night in
December culminating with the Nativity on the 24th.
Christmas Story Day 12,
The Story of Silent Night by Dick Smolinski
Story of Silent Night
Father Joseph Mohr sat at the old organ. His fingers stretched over the keys, forming the notes of a chord. He took a deep breath and pressed down. Nothing. He lifted his fingers and tried again. Silence echoed through the church.
Father Joseph shook his head. It was no use. The pipes were rusted, the bellows mildewed. The organ had been wheezing and growing quieter for months, and Father Joseph had been hoping it would hold together until the organ builder arrived to repair it in the spring. But now, on December 23, 1818, the organ had finally given out. St. Nicholas Church would have no music for Christmas.
Father Joseph sighed. Maybe a brisk walk would make him feel better. He pulled on his overcoat and stepped out into the night. His white breath puffed out before him. Moonlight sparkled off the snow-crusted trees and houses in the village of Oberndorf. Father Joseph crunched through the snowy streets to the edge of the little Austrian town and climbed the path leading up the mountain.
From high above Oberndorf, Father Joseph watched the Salzach River ripple past St. Nicholas Church. In the spring, when melting snow flowed down the mountains and the river swelled in its banks, water lapped at the foundation of the church. It was moisture from the flooding river that had caused the organ to mildew and rust.
Father Joseph looked out over the Austrian Alps. Stars shone above in the still and silent night.
Silent night? Father Joseph stopped. Of course! "Silent Night!" He had written a poem a few years before, when he had first become a priest, and he had given it that very title. "Silent Night."
Father Joseph scrambled down the mountain. Suddenly he knew how to bring music to the church.
The next morning, Father Joseph set out on another walk. This time he carried his poem. And this time he knew exactly where he was going -- to see his friend Franz Gruber, the organist for St. Nicholas, who lived in the next village.
Franz Gruber was surprised to see the priest so far from home on Christmas Eve, and even more surprised when Father Joseph handed him the poem.
That night Father Joseph and Franz Gruber stood at the altar of St. Nicholas Church. Father Joseph held his guitar. He could see members of the congregation giving each other puzzled looks. They had never heard a guitar played in church before, and certainly not during midnight mass on Christmas Eve, the holiest night of the year.
Father Joseph picked out a few notes on the guitar, and he and Franz Gruber began to sing. Their two voices rang out, joined by the church choir on the chorus. Franz Gruber's melody matched the simplicity and honesty of Father Joseph's words.
When the last notes faded into the night, the congregation remained still for a moment, then began to clap their hands. Applause filled the church. The villagers of Oberndorf loved the song! Father Joseph's plan to bring music to St. Nicholas Church had worked.
A few months later, the organ builder arrived in Oberndorf and found the words and music to "Silent Night" lying on the organ. The song enchanted him, and when he left, he took a copy of it with him.
The organ builder gave the song to two families of traveling singers who lived near his home. The traveling singers performed "Silent Night" in concerts all over Europe, and soon the song spread throughout the world.
Today, cathedral choirs and carolers from New York to New Zealand sing the simple song that was first played in a mountain church in Austria on Christmas Eve nearly 200 years ago.
Thank you so very much, Tammy!
http://www.save-on-crafts.com/howtomakperb.html - How to Make a Bow
BONUS WINTER CROCHET PATTERN: