Summary:\u00a0 Caught in a blizzard on Christmas Eve, Joe follows his brother’s song after the trail itself becomes obscured by the heavy snow.<\/p>\n
Rated: K+ WC 2500<\/p>\n
Last Page: Old Reviews<\/p>\n
*Re-Edited from the original version for this new posting.<\/em><\/p>\n Hymn # 31 from Lutheran Worship—Author: French Processional—Tune: Veni Emmanuel—Translated: John Neal, 1818-66—1st Published in: 1854<\/p>\n O Come, O Come, Emmanuel<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n XxXxX<\/strong><\/p>\n Oh, come, oh, come, Emmanuel, Joe heard Adam singing. His brother\u2019s cadence was slower, and his voice\u2026softer<\/em> than usual. Adam sounded contemplative…lonely.<\/p>\n That mourns in lonely exile here, No. It couldn\u2019t be Adam\u2019s voice. That simply wasn\u2019t possible. What Joe heard was a dream\u2026a wish\u2026a desperate hope. Nothing more. No. He couldn\u2019t possibly be hearing Adam. Joe was still far from home, surely much too far to hear his brother\u2019s quiet, solemn, gentle singing.<\/p>\n Rejoice, Rejoice, Emmanuel, It was the snow, Joe told himself. The silence of it\u2026. The pure whiteness of it\u2026. The numbing breath of it\u2026. The snow wrapped around him like a frigid blanket, obliterating the trail in front of him, hiding the trees to either side, making it impossible for him to see north from south.<\/p>\n Making it impossible for him to find his way home.<\/p>\n Oh, come, our Wisdom from on high, He should have stayed in Carson City. He should have waited for the storm to pass. But, of course, he hadn\u2019t expected a storm at all. This one had come sweeping down from the mountains without warning. And now\u2026. Now it seemed determined to keep him from his home.<\/p>\n To us the path of knowledge show, It was just snow. Just a little Christmas snow\u2026.<\/p>\n That\u2019s what Joe had told himself when the first white wisps had begun to fall. It was just snow, nothing to be concerned about. He\u2019d ridden through snow before. There\u2019d been no reason to think those gentle, quiet flakes would grow into a raging blizzard. No reason at all. In fact, the snowfall had lifted his spirits, made him that much more eager to get home.<\/p>\n Rejoice, Rejoice, Emmanuel, But snow in the mountains was never \u2018just snow.\u2019 The weather could turn quickly, churning showers into blizzards\u2026turning lambs into lions. Joe should have given more consideration to the fickle nature of the weather. And the mountains. His desire to be home for Christmas should never have overruled good sense.<\/p>\n Oh, come, oh, come, our Lord of might, Christmas was just a day on the calendar, after all. The celebrations, the observances, those were what mattered, not the timing. And God\u2019s timing surely didn\u2019t always correspond with man\u2019s. God has His own designs. The mountains\u2026the weather\u2026everything<\/em> was by His design.<\/p>\n In ancient times gave holy law, Awe? Yes. Joe awed these mountains. He also feared them. But not always\u2026and maybe not often enough. He loved them more than he feared them. He found peace in them\u2014even at that moment. Even there in that blizzard as he rode without hope of knowing where he was headed or if he was still on the trail at all.<\/p>\n Rejoice, Rejoice, Emmanuel, Maybe it was the sound of Adam\u2019s voice that was filling him with peace. Maybe that song was even pulling him forward. If not, then he\u2019d have to guess it was Cochise\u2019s uncanny sense of direction. All he knew for sure was he couldn\u2019t rely on any conscious thought of his own. He could hardly tell up from down, let alone where the trail was. For all Joe knew, he might be riding straight to the edge of a cliff. Still, he pressed onward. He had to. It was already too late to stop.<\/p>\n Oh, come O Rod of Jesse’s stem, He should have stopped when he\u2019d first noticed the weather turning\u2026when he could still see the rocks around him. He should have found what shelter he could, and then waited for the storm to pass. But he’d figured home wasn\u2019t so far, after all. Surely, he could make it there before the worst of the snows began to fall.<\/p>\n That trust your mighty pow’r to save; Now, it was too late. Shelter could be just a few steps to either side of him, and he would never see it. The snow was a prison of white. A cave. A cocoon. A\u2026grave.<\/p>\n A grave? Maybe. Yes, it could be, couldn\u2019t it? Joe\u2019s foolish decision, his childish eagerness to be home for Christmas, might well have been the last decision he would ever make. Snow like this could kill a man. It could blind him, entice him to a deadly, rocky fall\u2026or simply numb him into an eternal sleep.<\/p>\n Rejoice, Rejoice, Emmanuel, Rejoice? Adam\u2019s song did not sound joyful. There was more sorrow in it than joy, as though\u2026as though he was already mourning Little Joe\u2019s death\u2026as though he already knew Joe would never make it home.<\/p>\n Oh, come, O Key of David, come, I\u2019m not ready for my heavenly home<\/em>, Joe thought. I\u2019m not ready to die. Not out here. Not alone<\/em>. Looking up, hoping for a glimpse of heaven, Joe saw only his pristine white grave. Its icy fingers tightened around him. Its frigid heart pumped ice into his own. He was almost too cold to shiver anymore. Too cold to even breathe.<\/p>\n Make safe the way that leads on high, Could his pride have led to this misery? Joe had taken great pride in his father trusting him to attend to things in Carson City. Like a rite of passage, this trip had been made to show his brothers that he was a boy no longer, but a man, capable of making critical business decisions. Such pride, however, wasn\u2019t the mark of a man. No. There were other decisions, other\u2026considerations<\/em> that mattered more. And Joe had made the worst decision of all by continuing to ride home through this storm.<\/p>\n Rejoice, Rejoice, Emmanuel, I\u2019m sorry, Adam\u2026Pa\u2026Hoss. I\u2019m sorry for all the arguments. I\u2019m sorry for my selfishness and bad decisions. I\u2019m not a man. I\u2019m a long way from being a man. I deserve this, I suppose. No one is responsible for this but me. I made a mistake\u2026another mistake in a long string of mistakes. The worst kind of mistake, the kind I can never hope to make right.<\/p>\n Oh, come, our Dayspring from on high, It did<\/em> feel as though he was drawing nigh, though. Joe still couldn\u2019t see a thing, but\u2026he could sense<\/em> it. Somehow he felt certain that the house was just a little further. Even Cochise seemed to notice. The horse\u2019s steps grew quicker, anxious\u2026and his ears twitched, as though he, too, was listening to Adam\u2019s mournful song.<\/p>\n Disperse the gloomy clouds of night, But even Cochise\u2019s anxiousness couldn\u2019t last long, not out there in that cold, harsh\u2026white<\/em> wind. He blustered, and then stumbled, nearly driving Joe from the saddle. Cochise was growing numb, too, wasn\u2019t he? As numb as Joe. Or maybe\u2026maybe even more than Joe. The snow was getting so deep it wouldn\u2019t be much longer before Joe\u2019s numb horse could get no footing at all.<\/p>\n Rejoice, Rejoice, Emmanuel, God<\/em>? Joe said in the quiet of his mind, not wanting to disturb Adam\u2019s song\u2026not caring whether or not it was truly possible for him to be hearing it. I\u2019m sorry, God, for being so prideful\u2026so stubborn and willful. I deserve this, I suppose. I do. But\u2026my family doesn\u2019t. Please, don\u2019t make them face Christmas in mourning<\/em>.<\/p>\n Oh, come, Desire of nations, bind, Joe sensed Cochise hesitating. The horse was losing his ability to move on. Just as Joe was losing his strength\u2026his determination to hold<\/em> on. His fingers were stiff and burning. And his eyes\u2026he was finding it increasingly hard to keep them open, blinded as he\u2019d been for so long by all that numbing whiteness.<\/p>\n Oh, bid our sad divisions cease, He was tired\u2026so tired\u2026.<\/p>\n Maybe\u2026maybe he ought not to fight it anymore. Maybe he ought to just slip out of the saddle and lie down atop that cold, white mattress God had spread out around him. Maybe he could even rest easy, lulled by the sound of his brother\u2019s sad song.<\/p>\n But when he felt himself slipping downward, he knew he\u2019d had no part in the decision. Someone was pulling at his leg, his arms. His coat shifted, sending pinpricks of ice down his neck and into the small of his back.<\/p>\n And then his feet sank through snow. Icy tendrils climbed over the top of his boots, sending more pinpricks to his ankles. And then his knees tingled at its touch. And he knew he was falling. God\u2019s mattress was insistent.<\/p>\n Joe closed his eyes, accepting.<\/p>\n \u201cJoe!\u201d Pa shouted through the deafening, white silence.<\/p>\n Confused, Joe opened his eyes again. And\u2026he realized he hadn\u2019t fallen. The mattress was still at his feet. He was being held upright\u2014but not by his pa.<\/p>\n Pa was standing in front of him, with snow crusted eyebrows drawn in concern. \u201cLet\u2019s get him inside.\u201d<\/p>\n When Joe felt himself being pulled forward, he looked to his right to see almost a mirror of Pa\u2019s drawn brow on his brother, Adam.<\/p>\n Then Hoss\u2019s voice at his right stole his attention. \u201cHow in tarnation did you ever find your way home in this?\u201d<\/p>\n And Joe smiled. Maybe not so his family could see it, not with his cheeks too numb to respond, but deep down inside, where he could feel a surge of warmth already melting his icy shroud. Because he knew then that he really was<\/em> home. He was home, and his family had come out to greet him, to see to it he came in from the cold.<\/p>\n \u201cI heard Ad\u2019m singing,\u201d he finally slurred in response, his jaw too tight to afford him the luxury of true speech. Then he closed his eyes again, just long enough to give a silent, quick prayer of thanks, oblivious to the confused gazes passing between his brothers and father.<\/p>\n Hours later, wrapped in blankets and relishing the warmth of a roaring, glorious fire in the great room, Joe lay back against the thin cushion on the settee and listened\u2026as Adam gently strummed his guitar and sang a quiet, blessed song\u2014a song that would forever remind Joe to believe in miracles\u2026and the long reach of his family\u2019s love.<\/p>\n Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel, XxXxX<\/p>\n ~end~<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Reviewer: Snuffybear Anonymous Lovely story. One of my favorite Christmas carols.<\/p>\n Reviewer: bahj Signed I can just picture Adam’s voice leading Little Joe through the blinding snow. What a great Christmas story! Thank you so much for sharing it :0)<\/p>\n Reviewer: debpet Signed<\/p>\n Date: 01 Jan 2014 11:17 am Title: Chapter 1<\/p>\n Beautifully written.\u00a0 Love the very idea of Adam’s song somehow leading Joe home.\u00a0 The words of the song are a little different from the version I’m familiar with but they work very well to guide your narrative.<\/p>\n Author’s Response: <\/em><\/p>\n Thank you, Deb! It was such a quick write, I’m glad to find it was well received! \ud83d\ude09 Yes, there are a couple of variations to the English lyrics, depending on who translated it from the original French. I was glad to find this version posted online, as it is the one with which I am most familiar.<\/em><\/p>\n Reviewer: Chavel47 Anonymous Enjoyed how you wove the lines of the song into Joe’s actions. \u00a0I can see Joe battling the snow to make his way home and how the tune plays in his head to keep him going.<\/p>\n Author’s Response: <\/em><\/p>\n Thank you! While strong blizzards can be loud, based on what the winds are doing to trees and debris, other snow storms can be eerily quiet. I can imagine the soft moaning of cold but not excessive winds weaving Adam’s song–whether real or imagined–into Joe’s thoughts. I’m glad you were able to envision that as well. \ud83d\ude42<\/em><\/p>\n Reviewer: Dancediva Anonymous I love this song! Great idea to incorporate the lryics and Joe’s reaction to them.<\/p>\n Author’s Response: <\/em><\/p>\n Thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed it! \ud83d\ude42<\/em><\/p>\n Reviewer: jojay Anonymous Wonderful job intertwining Joe’s thoughts with the hymn !<\/p>\n Author’s Response: <\/em><\/p>\n Thank you, jojay! This was one of those that just sort of “happened.” I was “hearing” the song in my head, and had an image of Joe, and…well, I just pulled open the laptop and started typing. I’m glad you enjoyed it! \ud83d\ude42<\/em><\/p>\n Reviewer: Puchi Ann Signed This is my absolutely favorite carol, so of course, I was instantly drawn in. \u00a0I love the way you’ve used it to lead Joe home and, especially, how the verses often relate to what’s going on in Joe’s situation. \u00a0Nice!<\/p>\n Author’s Response: Thank you, Puchi Ann! It is a wonderful carol, isn’t it? Very moving. I could just imagine hearing Adam singing it. And yes, some of the verses just fit right in. I’m glad you enjoyed this! Thank you for letting me know!<\/em><\/p>\n Reviewer: Anonymous Anonymous Great, angsty Christmas story, complete with a little miracle.\u00a0 Very good.\u00a0 I enjoyed it.<\/p>\n Author’s Response: <\/em><\/p>\n Thank you, whoever you are! \ud83d\ude09 And Christmas should be a time for miracles, after all! \ud83d\ude42<\/em><\/p>\n Reviewer: sklamb Signed Loved this! Thank you, Freya, for providing such a moving context to one of my favorite hymns!<\/p>\n Author’s Response: <\/em><\/p>\n Thank you, Sue! That hymn has always resonated with me, too. Merry Christmas!<\/em><\/p>\n Reviewer: jfclover Signed Interesting, freya. \u00a0Jyst in the nick of time! \u00a0Your description of Joe working his way through the storm and studying his shortcomings was nicely done. \u00a0Good song choice too – very Adamish type song. \u00a0I can easily picture him singing. Thank you, Pat! I wish I could hear Adam sing that for real, but yes, it is fairly easy to imagine it. \ud83d\ude09<\/em><\/p>\n Reviewer: Belle Anonymous Thanks for the Christmas gift! I love when you incorporate song into the story.<\/p>\n Author’s Response: <\/em><\/p>\n Thank you, Belle! And Merry Christmas!<\/em><\/p>\nInspired by:<\/h3>\n
\nand ransom captive Israel<\/em><\/p>\n
\nuntil the Son of God appear<\/em><\/p>\n
\nshall come to you, O Israel<\/em><\/p>\n
\nwho ordered all things mightily<\/em><\/p>\n
\nand teach us in her ways to go<\/em><\/p>\n
\nshall come to you, O Israel<\/em><\/p>\n
\nwho to your tribes on Sinai’s height<\/em><\/p>\n
\nin cloud and majesty and awe<\/em><\/p>\n
\nshall come to you, O Israel<\/em><\/p>\n
\nfrom ev’ry foe deliver them<\/em><\/p>\n
\nbring them in vict’ry through the grave<\/em><\/p>\n
\nshall come to you, O Israel<\/em><\/p>\n
\nand open wide our heav’nly home<\/em><\/p>\n
\nand close the path to misery<\/em><\/p>\n
\nshall come to you, O Israel<\/em><\/p>\n
\nand cheer us by your drawing nigh<\/em><\/p>\n
\nand death’s dark shadows put to flight<\/em><\/p>\n
\nshall come to you, O Israel<\/em><\/p>\n
\nin one the hearts of all mankind<\/em><\/p>\n
\nand be yourself our King of Peace<\/em><\/p>\n
\nshall come to you, O Israel<\/em><\/p>\nOld Reviews<\/h2>\n
\nDate: 25 Jan 2014 05:20 pm Title: Chapter 1<\/p>\n
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\nDate: 25 Dec 2013 12:51 pm Title: Chapter 1<\/p>\n
\nDate: 25 Dec 2013 11:10 am Title: Chapter 1<\/p>\n
\nAuthor’s Response: <\/em><\/p>\n
\nDate: 25 Dec 2013 09:48 am Title: Chapter 1<\/p>\n