The Christmas Cantata

The town of Freedom (pop. 250) lies in a darkly wooded valley in Owen County, Indiana. The country around it is mostly "hills, hollers and underbrush." That's the way Miss Edith Madden, the telephone switchboard operator, describes it. Freedom is a farming town, more than 100 years old, and is connected with the world by State Highway 67.

The town has three general stores--the Regal, Herb Minnicks and Dyers. It has two gas stations, a post office (Ross Gallimore, postmaster) and Fulk Bros. Electric Store. There are four churches--the Nazarene, Methodist, Baptist, and the white, steepled Christian Church to which all of Freedom's people were invited, last week, to hear a Christmas cantata.

The cantata--sung by the Christian choir from Spencer, eight miles away--was Freedom's biggest Christmas celebration. The day it was held, most of the customers at the Regal (which offers such homely items as Clabber Girl Baking Powder and Mail Pouch Tobacco) chatted about it, and some started talking about the way the world looked to them as Christmas drew near.

Around the Stove. Like people everywhere, Freedom's citizens had their worries. Said John Kay: "I don't like a man in debt and over his head like our government is." He worried about Russia too: "When they get China they'll come after us." But for all that, almost everyone agreed with Gail Abrell that Freedom had plenty to be thankful for.

"We've got peace," Abrell said slowly, "and we've got our health. We've had luck with the heifers and a couple of young ones brought $325 apiece last week at a sale. We're prepared for winter--we've opened the silo and it's filled with the whole stalk of corn, ear and all. There's plenty of hay in the barn."

By 7:30 the people had entered the church to hear the Christmas singing. They piled coats and purses on the back pews and looked about with appreciation. A fire was snapping in the stove, a big U.S. flag was hung near the front of the church, and the piano was decorated with holiday greens.

In a Stable. After the choir filed in, 28 strong, their director, the Rev. Clifford A. Underwood, said a prayer: "We thank thee, O God, for so many blessings. We thank thee for the fruits of our gardens. But we thank thee most for the gift of Bethlehem, the gift of thine only begotten Son." In thg brief silence which followed, the sound of a distant airplane came faintly to the church. Then the men, women and girls of the choir opened their books and began to sing.

They sang with untrained voices, and as if they loved the music. An eleven-year-old named Sally Sheppard sang a solo in a sweet alto, ". . . in a stable, 'mid lowing of kine, Mary kept watch o'er the infant divine . . ." As she sang, cattle could be heard lowing in a red barn just behind the church. Some of the audience sat with clenched hands; a few farmers' wives dabbed at their eyes when Jane Carpenter, 16, and Leanna Livingston, 17, sang a duet: "Come, thou long-expected Jesus."

When the music ended, after less than an hour, a woman stood in the congregation and said: "Thank you for bringing over your choir to us, Reverend Underwood. It was a real Christmas treat."

Afterward, Farmer Abrell and his daughters Nancy Ruth and Rachel walked home up the road behind the church. In the light of the full moon, overflowing corncribs stood like sentinels. Rachel slipped her hand into her father's arm. After a few minutes he said, half to himself: "I reckon we've got things to be thankful for."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.