viii. mass

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viii. mass - 12/25

I went to church at midnight because I promised my mom I would, and I think there’s some kind of law somewhere that says you can’t break a promise made to your mom. I’ve never really been as religious as my parents are, or as my brother Greg was, but there’s something special about Christmas mass that makes me feel like an important part of a bigger whole, and I think that feeling was just what I needed.

I’ve always had trouble staying awake at midnight mass: the music is slow, the church is warm, and I’ve usually just finished devouring a Christmas Eve dinner. Tonight, though, it was different. Maybe it was the fact that I was by myself, and didn’t have an older brother’s shoulder to use as a pillow, but I was wide awake, riveted, standing alone in the seventh pew from the front with the sound of the organ washing over me.

Yet I wasn’t alone, not really; I was surrounded by families and couples and other sleepy individuals, all bundled up against the chill outside (it started snowing again a few hours ago) and huddled together in a patchwork quilt of peacoats and Christmas sweaters. It didn’t feel lonely standing there, pulling the sleeves of my jacket over my hands to keep them warm, listening to the priest, to the old woman beside me, to the baby crying in the back of the room. I never once opened my mouth except to say “Merry Christmas” to the people sitting nearby, but I didn’t feel like I had to. When everyone sang, my voice was included.

At the very end of mass they sang Silent Night, and as beautiful as that song is I couldn’t help but think that it was wrong. There’s no such thing as a silent night in the city that never sleeps, and it certainly wasn’t silent in that church on the corner next to that one vegan bakery. It was flooded with voices of all tones, and in those voices was enough Christmas spirit to power Santa’s sleigh until the end of time. It was something special, Sam; it really was. I only wish that you’d been there to see it too. And I mean, you’re not, and that’s sad, but it’s beginning to feel like this Christmas might be all right anyway.

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dedicated to gray because she's lovely and her comments and general personality make me smile. p.s. it's officially christmas in california - merry christmas, everyone!

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