Soothing Saturday – A Gentle Prelude to December
Tomorrow is the early Christmas concert for our little community band, and already the house carries that familiar hum — instrument cases leaning by the door, sheet music tucked in folders, and the quiet, steady promise of tradition.
Soothing Saturday — is my little corner for slowing down and stepping away from my usual genealogy deep dives. Think of it as a gentle exhale at the end of the week — a space for reflections, small joys, and simple stories written just for the pleasure of it.
The early Christmas concert is our way of easing into the season. Not rushing, not performing for perfection, just coming together to mark the turning of the year. I always feel a gentle stillness settle as we warm up — the kind of stillness that belongs to winter afternoons when the daylight fades early and candles glow longer.
And, as always, we will end the concert with the hymn Deilig er Jorden — Wonderful is the Earth.
I never quite get through that melody without a tightening in my throat. It is simple, unpretentious, and deeply rooted in the way generations before us sang hope into cold December nights. The melody carries a sense of belonging, and the words offer a reminder that reaches far beyond the church walls or the community hall stage.
This year, especially, the hymn feels like a soft lantern in the dark. We don’t need to pretend the world is without sorrow — anyone listening to the news knows otherwise. But the hymn reminds us of something older and steadier: that even in the midst of trouble, the earth remains a place of wonder.
A place where families gather.
A place where snow settles on silent fields.
A place where wind instruments shine in warm light, and voices blend, and neighbours nod to one another in shared understanding.
Tomorrow, when the final chord fades and the echo lingers just long enough to feel it in the chest, I know I’ll be thinking the same thing I do every year: that despite everything — despite the noise and the fear and the uncertainty — this world still holds beauty. We see it in small moments: a gentle smile from someone in the audience, a child swaying to the music, a few singers mouthing the words because they know them by heart.
And so, on this calm Saturday evening, I am grateful for the quiet traditions that anchor us. For community bands, for songs passed down through generations, and for a hymn that reminds us that the earth is, indeed, wonderful.
Tomorrow we will play — not to drown out the world, but to remind ourselves that goodness still has a melody worth hearing.
Until next time — may your coffee be warm, your records be legible, and your heart find a reason to smile. Have a great weekend!
