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Array
(
[sid] => 156230
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The true Story of
[time] => 2009-12-25 09:15:02
[hometext] => This is a yearly ritual executed in my home town, my relatives being a vital part to it.
[bodytext] =>  In an Austrian hamlet stands a little church whose musical bells can be heard for miles calling the people to worship. SILENT NIGHT A CHRISTMAS PRESENT FROM FRANZ GRUBER Around Anno Domini 1802, a small town's organist hand trained his choir for an oratorio to be presented during Christmas Mass for the edification of clergy and town folk alike. *** On entering the choir loft for rehearsal one night the merry singer troop stopped at a dismaying sight; the organ bellows were gnawed straight through by hungry mice! - now what to do?  Franz Gruber, the organist, was in utter despair, He saw the bellows were beyond repair. He trudged home through deep snow, swallowing many a tear; there would be no music for Christmas, no carols, no cheer. *** As he paced up and down in his room dejectedly his eyes caught an out-of-tune, old and forgotten guitar, but when he sadly plucked on its rusty strings a tune seemed to come to him like on angel's wings. ***  Father Mohr felt empathy with Franzl's plight; he offered to forge some lyrics and to stay overnight; Suitable lyrics were wanted for the new song to be- words that would nestle and flow with its melody. *** They spent the night humming, singing, and strumming, jotting down notes, groping for rhyme and verse; forgetting their cares and the very late hour, they rested a minute and then resumed to rehearse. *** When morning dawned there had been given birth to a new song to be treasured by heaven and earth. The church was packed, - the faithful with delight heard for the very first time 'SILENT NIGHT�. *** On Christmas Eve each year, due homage is paid to composer Franz Gruber, and a wreath is laid On his grave in the city Hallein -a hallowed site while the town brass band blows softly 'SILENT NIGHT'.  Lo! My own brother, Karli, walks around This grave to put on it the yearly wreath On Holy Eve, while brass and wood pipes sound, Where 'Silent Night's' composer is buried. My great-great-great-great auntie dear Sang in this choir and saw the hungry mice Then collapsed on her chair in shock and fear Till they revived her with Cologne and spice. . Elizabeth Dandy [comments] => 2 [counter] => 204 [topic] => 62 [informant] => blumentopf [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 15 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => spiritual )
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