December 1959 One cold December evening I shivered my way to the barn to pay my friend Bessie the cow a visit. We had finally reached a truce - she lets me into our little excuse for a toilet, if I bring her something sweet. I was leaving the barn when I heard a strange noise coming from the hayloft. I slowly climbed the ladder and shone my flashlight around the loft. Sitting on top of a large stack of hay partially covered in snow, was a little Tooting Owl. As I slowly approached the owl its fragile form hinted at a broken leg. I decided I'd take a closer look in the morning if it didn't take flight over night. The next day I couldn't wait to check the barn. I crept up the stairs to the hayloft and there the owl remained, snuggled down into the hay. Suddenly from behind me I heard several voices. One of them shouted, "Teacher, Teacher, can we see the bird?" I turned and there were 3 young girls looking up at me like I had discovered a gold mine. Together, we stood in awe of the owl. Molly, a curly haired redhead, expressed her desire to help mend the injured leg. Holding our collective breath, we watched as Molly gently cradled the owl, revealing the injured leg dangling beneath her mittens. "Can I bring it home so mom and I can fix it?" Molly asked. I nodded in agreement. I watched as the little knot of girls carefully made their way towards Molly's house just a few hundred yards away. I called out, "See you at 7 o'clock tonight." I had recruited a group of 8 girls to practice a few carols for the Christmas carol service I was planning. Christmas was only two weeks away. I wanted to do my best to make sure we did a good job with the first ever such service held in Green Island Brook. I had held Sunday service every week and grew tired of singing hymns either alone or with one or two ladies. The first choir rehearsal was a struggle. The girls ranging in age from 7-15 years were very shy as they sang almost under their breath. We started with Silent Night. By the end of the first rehearsal I had taught them how to sing the carol without having to look at the board for the words and they had also managed to get the volume up. I felt we were making progress. That evening I walked home with Molly and a few of the other girls. Molly excitedly told us of the bird's progress and the girls hinted at a secret plan for the upcoming Christmas carol service. That night as I said my prayers and crawled into bed, I experienced a feeling that most teachers must get. It wasn't just a feeling of accomplishment, but one of belonging, becoming part of a community, and doing something worthwhile for the folks that depended on you for the care and education of their children. As I look back now, that first Christmas in Green Island Brook was one I will never forget. One evening I decided to ask my landlords, Will and Christine, if they had some nice wood around. I sat in the kitchen and sketched a crude drawing of a bird cage. I told them of my plan, which made them very happy to help with this special project. My choir was up to 15 girls and 2 mothers as we approached our final rehearsal just one day before the big event. Mr. Ford, the elementary teacher, did a great job reading the passages between the carols and all the singers did a wonderful job. I was thrilled with the rehearsal. We were ready. Will and I got to the school very early on the big night. We had covered our special surprise in a big red blanket. The choir had a lovely surprise of their own, donning red and green capes as they made their way to the front of the school. They looked awesome. The room was packed, with people even standing at the rear. My 17-year-old body shivered a little. I had to take a deep breath and get the show under way. The choir sang like angels, their faces beaming with joy. I fought back tears of pride as I watched them perform flawlessly. At the break, we devised a plan to engage the audience in a rendition of Jingle Bells. "Let's make the rafters of this building shake!" I said. And that we did. The room resonated with the sound of voices, once timid, now singing with exuberance. After the joyful singing, I gathered everyone's attention for a brief story that captured the essence of Christmas in our community. I recounted Molly's compassionate act of tending to the injured owl. After talking with her mother, I learned it wasn't the first animal Molly had brought home to fix. I asked Molly to join me beside our special surprise. I pulled the blanket off like a magician and there for all to see was a beautiful red cage with a white door, adorned with a red cross and the words "Molly's Animal Hospital." Molly's tearful gratitude touched our hearts as she pledged to continue helping animals in need. We closed the evening by singing Silent Night, the entire congregation joining in. I felt deep down that this was something very special. In that moment, Green Island Brook felt like a close-knit family, linking arms with one another, bound by the warmth of the holiday spirit. It's at a time like this that the real meaning of Christmas enters our hearts. Written by and submitted on behalf of Don Noseworthy   Submitted By: