With contagious joy, Jolly Good Fellow unites musicians

An unlikely group gathers

It’s a hodgepodge of people huddled together as an audience.  For new music performers, it’s feeling a mound of nerves. For some, it's more like mandatory fun, at first. Some of us have pretend smiles. Some of us just don't sing. 

However, the night quickly turns to far more as strangers become new friends and family-like bonds form over an evening of student musician performances and caroling. 

Organized by an emailed map, about 20 of us gather for holiday treats of assorted colors at a young neighbor musician's home.  

I see a cheerful student inviting me into his home. And, another sweet former student of mine, now home-schooled, is downright Elf-happy-to-hear-Santa-is-coming giddy to see me.

And, piling in one by one are people of all ages and international backgrounds. Youngsters and new musicians arrive, some ready to perform, and some, not so much. 

The leading music man starts the party- -our music teacher, and his cheer, begins to melt away the nerves.

The party starts with small talk

The party starts with small talk. I actually hate parties. For me, a shy person, it’s just too much pressure to be “on” for too long. To be honest, time with people I don't know really well, exhausts and deflates me. 

But, this man is my son's music teacher, and I can't wait to watch my son perform.  Caroling is planned for later, so I come to the party ready for mandatory mingling and possibly some caroling too. But, probably not.

To my relief, I find refuge in another introverted guest. We huddle in our worlds and hide away from our bravest trolls about the milling quarters. 

I am a carefully stepping zombie with a holiday smile

There are a few people I really want to get to know know, but I’m awkward at reaching out. 

I try to stumble through teacher stories, and I spend some time encouraging my new introverted friend before her June and Johnny Cash performance.  She says she’s terrified. 

I share about my first piano recital being last April. I talk about how I focused on another piano student as I played. He was 82. I focused on his smile. I knew if he could do it, I could too. 

I talk about how I compared it to talking on live TV or ducking while dodging bullets in a general reporting assignment many years ago. I mean to say it isn’t easy. I am not sure how well the stories translate, but I try. 

We are all summoned to become audiences

Time tolls and we are summoned to become audiences. We are warmed up with our jolly good fellow teacher- -a man who has inspired so many from old to young.

Looking back, to be honest, the evening is like a joyous celebration of who this man is to all of us. He is our music teacher. And, I find quickly that he teaches students of all ages and performing abilities. 

And, I also later see that he has a way of bringing out the musical best in all of us- -whether we can recognize it right away in ourselves or not.

Up first are the bravest music soldiers

My new introverted friend makes those brave steps to the stage. She plays the guitar and sings this quiet angelic song. If she's shaking inside, you can't tell. She sang with such honest sincerity and raw feeling that I felt what she felt.

Then, we had a little Johnny Cash performance from another new music student. He was pretty soulful for a local cowboy hat cladded real estate agent. 

Then, one of my brave amazing own school students sang and played the guitar too. He was fabulous.

And then, my son played. Up to seconds before the performance- -his first musical performance after two years of guitar lessons, he was like a cat shrinking away from cold water. But, our jolly good knight stood up beside him and sang along. He held his music and cheered him on note by note.

I recorded the musical production. I was so proud that I forgot to take a photograph. I was grateful that our jolly knight’s bride had thought to take photos of all of the evening’s stars.

One of my favorite moments was being introduced to the song "I Remember It Well" from Gigi. I had never heard it before. I laughed the entire time. I loved the satire and the characters. 

Then, came caroling

We all gathered to drizzle carols over the neighborhood. I wasn't exactly sure how this was going to work out. 

Would people shut the doors in our faces? Would they simply not open their doors? After all we were just showing up at their doors uninvited. Was this just an old tradition? 

And, also, I am thinking deep down, "I don’t sing!!"  (See Elf scene. Jovie doesn't sing aloud). 

In fact, since pretty much being kicked out or sorted out of the church choir about 10 years ago, I go out of my way NOT to sing.

It was like trick-or-treating in reverse because the children didn’t need a gift at the doors, but the delighted faces of the adults, dogs and children actually opening their doors for us, were treats of their own.

Then, there was this sort of low-pressure easy time of storytelling and conversations that came along the red and green lit walking way. 

Children ran around the houses gleefully singing, neighbors bonded over Christmas decorations, and miraculously, small talk led to stories and humming led to actual singing.

And, by the end of the evening, even people who were normally too cool (me), were singing with their eyes closed and not holding back. I felt like Hugh Grant in the movie About a Boy when he suddenly finds himself just letting go.

Hugh Grant Sings Killing Me Softly with "his eyes closed" at 5:28

And, as the night drew to a close and the last house was visited, we all gathered together and ended up staying longer than we had planned.

And, when we left the house, we left the house like family - - bringing mounds of food home in our arms and not leaving without a hug.

And our Jolly Good fellow had done his thing- -uniting us all in music and joy and reminding us all of our own unique talents- -whether imperfect or closer to perfect- -wrapped up in a celebration of life, lights, and of the lights that are within us all. 

Bob Schneider unites carolers with contagious joy.