Christmas in the Air by Irene Brand Page A

situation.
    â€œBuddy,” Les said, “I’m alone, too, but somehow when I’m in this old church, I feel a kinship with my loved ones who worshiped here, but who’ve gone on to a better place.”
    Perhaps considering that the conversation could turn negative, Eric said, “Shall we plan our worship service to end at midnight?”
    â€œGood idea. We want to stay up as long as we can,” Les agreed. “If we’re movin’ around, we won’t feel the cold as much.”
    â€œWhile we’ve been talking,” Quinn said, “I heard a helicopter flying over. It’s probably the National Guard looked for stranded vehicles. We may have been spotted already. When we go out, we can clean the snow off the side of the church van, so the name can be seen by searchers. I’ve also been praying that God will reassure our families.”
    â€œI’m for making gifts for one another,” Sean said. “I’ve got something in mind, but I doubt I can get it finished today. Let’s wait until tomorrow morning to open our presents.”
    â€œI have some gifts in the truck I was taking home with me,” Quinn said. “Under the circumstances, my family won’t mind if I share them with you. If anyone can’t think of a gift, you’re welcome to anything I have.”
    â€œDon’t forget to look for things in the supply room,” Les said. “There might be something left from yearsgone by to make gifts or Christmas decorations. We used to have big Christmas programs here.”
    â€œEric, while you plan a message,” Roxanne said, “I’ll see if I can get any music out of the piano. If not, we’ll sing a capella.”
    â€œYou might try the organ,” Les suggested.
    â€œI’ve already checked out the organ,” Roxanne said with a laugh. “It’s a pump organ. I’ve never tried to play one of them.”
    â€œNo time like the present,” Les said, as he picked up the fuel buckets and headed for the back door.
    Roxanne sat on the circular organ stool, lifted the covering over the keys, and pulled out several of the regulating stops above the keyboard. Livia heard her giggling as she pumped up and down on the squeaking pedals, but her fingers picked out a melody that Livia recognized as “Silent Night.”
    â€œMy boots keep sliding on these pedals. And if I forget to pump, I don’t get any music,” Roxanne said. “No wonder the pioneers were so hardy. This organ would make an excellent leg exerciser. But I think I’d better use the piano for tonight’s service, even if it’s not in tune.”
    â€œMom,” Marie said, “you know you can get music out of a washboard. It’ll sound great.”
    And although the piano did sound out of tune to an experienced ear, in a short time, the strains of traditional Christmas music sounded through the room. Sean stood beside the piano, and he and Roxanne started singing the lyrics. The music lent a sense of gaiety to thestranded travelers, who went about their tasks humming or singing with them.
    â€œJingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way. Oh what fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh,” Livia sang as she rummaged in her purse for paper and pen.
    Quinn came to the front pew and sat beside her. “Too bad we don’t have a sleigh and the horse. We could get out of our predicament a little easier.”
    â€œWe have a sleigh and plenty of horses on Heritage Farm,” Livia said, finding it didn’t hurt as much to talk about home when Quinn was beside her. “In fact, three years ago when my brother, Evan, brought his girlfriend, Wendy, home for a visit, they went to the Christmas Eve service in a sleigh that belonged to my grandfather. Evan and Wendy got married the following spring, and they have a little boy now.”
    â€œSomeone to carry on the Kessler name then. I remember you