Christmas Story

There in the front, playing first chair violin for the annual Messiah in the American Fork Tabernacle, sits a great hulk of a man with childishly chubby jowls surrounding a tiny frown. His sausage fingers dance across the strings tirelessly until the entire steamy hall rises in unison for an ovation. He never loses focus, never sweats and when he's done he rises and picks his pants from his bottom and without a smile, commands his own children, who visit the concert every year, to get things ready and leaves.

His mother conducts. She is the size of a school girl and wears glasses to match although probably 65 years old and smiles throughout the concert as though delighted by every note. Her daughter directs the choir effectively and probably thinks she doesn't look like a cartoon.

Without the efforts of this family the annual Messiah concert in the American Fork Tabernacle would not happen. And people would be slightly emptier and slightly less inclined to feel the warmth of the Christmas season and maybe even slightly less willing to lend a helping hand.