July 15, 2024

**Do Not Use**

New Director's Dialogue available in ARC Event Library


By Susan Sabino

“Let’s go see the lights!” Daddy yelled every year
when the red and green bulbs were strung from
lamp pole to festive lamp pole across every block
on Main Street in my heart-of-Texas hometown.
I made a beeline to the car, so ready to go and see.

Right in the middle of each glowing string, the proud
Chamber of Commerce hung two shiny silver bells,
with big red bows and holly. Inside each bell a light
glowed! The whole town sighed its “oohs” and “ahhs”
in chorus – car by idling car on Main Street.

It was the only kid then, maybe three or four, wedged
between my beautiful young parents, in the front seat
of the new Nash. Daddy, just back from too many sad
holidays overseas where no one hung Christmas lights,
and Mommy still wearing lipstick at home for him.

Every year, at first sight of the bells, my mother
burst into song: “Silver bells. . . silver bells . . . It’s
Christmas time in the city. . .Hear them ring?”
She hugged me tight, saying, “Sing, Susan, sing!”
while she sang her magic low notes called harmony.

By next Christmas, I could sing the magic notes too.
Together, we sang all kinds of songs. Hymns, while
hanging clothes on the line – show tunes as we ironed
Daddy’s National Guard khakis – starched so stiff.
All the chores were easy when we harmonized.

Now, every Christmas time, I miss them most.
When Bing Crosby croons Silver Bells on the radio,
I can still hear Mommy singing harmony with me.
And look – Daddy’s at the wheel, adding a deep bass.
“Silver bells. . . soon it will be Christmas Day

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