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Sonja taught an in that lovely little chapel On the day of my first lesson, I had shown up in blue jeans, only to have Sonja send e into a dress

"This is a place of reverence and worship," she had said sternly "We do not wear casual clothes e enter the chapel!"

Christht’ on the piano for the annual Christmas Eve service Everyone in town caularly to church or not It was the spiritual highlight of the Christmas season for townsfolk The choir would perfors, Sonja would acco The story of the Christ Child would be read at the pulpit by Lawrence Mangelson, who possessed a rich, deep, orator’s voice It waswith thoughts of debuting at such an event I had taken piano lessons, Monday through Friday, for three years, and had yet to play for anyone but Doc, Sonja, and inally, the church choir director, elson, had denied Sonja’s request to let me play in the special worship service She was kind, but she worried that my ability at thirteen would not be worthy of the occasion Sonja had taken elson’s home and insisted that she listen

I played a powerfully ht’ on the piano in her little sitting room, and when I finished, the sweet old lady hu elson said it would be the best Christested we keep my piano solo a secret

Christmas Eve fell on a Sunday that year, and I attended the 9:00 aation would be returning that evening for the Christ services were shortened I had let my Aunt Louise and Tara in on my little secret, so later that afternoon, Aunt Louise ca ht makeup on my eyes, cheeks, and lips Sonja said ht white e appropriate She had driven to Provo, a city about an hour north of Levan, and found a si-sleeved, white, velvet dress When I thucast, thanks to my tumble down Tuckaway Hill, my dad’s weathered face softened and his lower lip tre you but I don’t want toin deep drifts along the edge of the poorly plowed roads Wein the nificent prelude raular peith Rachel coed to be e for the holidays, ere all together Everyone was scrubbed and solemn in their holiday best, hair slicked and ties tied

The prograan, and my stomach was in knots as it neared the moment of my solo I was seated at the end of our bench to provide easy access to the aisle, which was a straight shot up to the stand where the piano aiting, lid opened, choir elson’s voice soared with the spirit as he spoke of the angels that heralded the birth of the King Suddenly, it was s and walked to the piano There was a ation The service always stayed close to tradition with little variance in narration or ain, no one really knew I played

I sat down and closedfor the nerves to stay in s and notinto the beauty of the sound, the soaring reverence of theThe audience faded around , and when it was done I slowly descended back to earth I rose frootten ation

My dad’s face was streaked with tears, and my brothers’ faces shone with pride Aunt Louise and Tara smiled broadly, and Tara even waved excitedly before herher eyes with a lacy hanky, her horned rian to clap Mormons don’t clap in worship services The chapel is a reverent place, and speakers end seration When soiven The choir or performer knoell they have been received only by the level of silence and attention that is afforded theoers, andthe faux pas Towards the back of the church, standing next to the pehere his grandparents always sat, dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants, his hair pulled back off his face and secured in a low ponytail, was Sa, his face serious and unasharandparents were seated beside him, their faces torn as to whether they should silence hi up around hi became a roar