“Said the night wind to the little lamb,
do you see what I see?
Way up in the sky, little lamb,
do you see what I see?”
This American Christmas carol was written by Noel Regney, who in 1962 wrote it as a plea for peace and understanding during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Released first by the Harry Simeone Chorale, it became a smash hit in 1963 when Bing Crosby recorded it that fall and performed it that December on a Bob Hope Christmas special. The idea came back in the 50s when, walking home in a depressed mood, Regney saw two mothers with their babies in strollers. The babies were looking at each other and smiling. The sight of their joy inspired him to pen the lyrics with his wife, Gloria Shayne Baker, later writing down the music.
It also is a perfect framework for my experience a few days ago when I witnessed the annual Candlelight Processional at Epcot. My evening was filled with poor parking practices by the cast members at Epcot, and then wimpy nachos in Mexico in our hurried effort to get to the processional. Hardly the same context as the Cuban Missile Crisis, but, never mind, because what awaited us would wash away any depressed or cynical thought.
With its roots in the Disneyland tradition, which began in 1958, and which continued in 1971 in the Magic Kingdom at Walt Disney World, this show took advantage of a major remodeling of the America Gardens Theater (you can thank the 1993 “Magical World of Barbie” show for that) when it moved to Epcot in 1994.
I sat through many a show in its early years, and then, as popularity grew, I would spend a few minutes reminiscing by standing in the back with the other passing crowds. It seemed too much of a hassle to stand in line for it. To take the time to sit down, and see it again from beginning to end was truly a treat, and any frustrations about parking practices and nachos quickly dissipated. Sitting there I saw things you don't notice just passing by.
So what did I see?
It was easy to draw your eyes to the lovely Isabella Rossellini. Her face lit up as if she was the mother of Jesus. As events unfolded, it seemed that the whole concert was reflected in her countenance. You could see she wanted to break into the Hallelujah Chorus. She was filled with joy.
But then I saw more:
- I saw two girls excited to be standing next to the other.
- I saw a young bass carefully forming every vowel and consonant.
- I saw a special-needs teenager earnestly laboring to try to make sense of the Il Est Né.
- I saw a seeing-eye dog, wearing a choir collar, always guarding, but otherwise completely unfazed by the events around him as his master joined in song.
- I saw a focused cast member whisking away a singer who had fainted from standing.
- I saw trumpeters focused on every move the conductor made.
- I saw a sign-language interpreter whose hands message the glad tidings of great joy.
- I saw someone playing woodwind, grateful to have a job during these economic times.
- I saw an excited father taking pictures of his grown little princess singing on stage.
- I saw the sibling of a high school choir member whining until her mother whisked her back to her stroller.
- I saw a member of the audience who would would have broken into song with the choir, if someone with him hadn't stopped him in his tracks.
- I saw hundreds of guests who have no longer seemed to be tourists in a theme park, but witnesses to a greater message.
And, finally, I saw something I hadn't seen in so many years. He was about two-thirds up on the right side of the stage. Cloaked in yellow vestments and standing among the others, It was a young high school tenor caught up in the spirit of the moment. He loved the music. He loved the message. He loved each moment of being there. The joy was all over his face. He was so familiar to me. Familiar because it was me so many years ago. And in that moment he brought me back in time to all of those high school choir events that came as I sang in school concerts and shopping malls. It was a time where my life was a discovery away and when I was infused with an excitement that had waned in many a year since. With sincerity he joined with others in singing,
The child, the child
Sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light.
He will bring us goodness and light.
That is what I saw at Epcot's Candlelight Processional. This Christmas, see if you see what I see.
Happy Holidays. Have a great 2012.
