"Have you ever gone caroling?" Sharon wanted to know this morning.
"No, I haven't," I told her, "but we've had carolers come to our house. All of which happened at extremely inconvenient times. Providing memories I don't cherish."
"I may never have gone caroling, but I had been part of a group that goes singing for 'shut-ins' when I was a teenager," I told her, "and also had roles reversed when I was the 'shut-in'."
She wanted to hear all about it
It was the spring before we got married, and I was recovering from a broken ankle.
My days were spent reading, which helped time fly by quite swiftly. I had other options to occupy my time, but I had always despised hand sewing and needlework projects, so I didn't do much of that at all.
One afternoon I was yanked back to reality from the book I had been engrossed in when I heard voices outside the window. I craned my neck to see what was happening, and saw to my dismay Teacher Sadie and all the students from our little school.
They marched single file up unto our porch and then stood there waiting as Sadie knocked on the door. Mom went to welcome them in. They came and stood around me where I was sitting and belted out three songs, presented me with a 'get well' scrapbook they had made, and then turned and marched out the door, continuing single file over our hayfield back towards the school.
It took me a minute to recover from that. I had felt intensely awkward being sung to. Not knowing where to look or what to do.
It was a sweet gesture, but I still suppress a shudder when ever I relive it.