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There are choirs, and then there are choirs.

During the Christmas season, they seem to appear everywhere. Some are grand productions—living Christmas trees built row upon row with singers standing high above the audience, filling the air with music so beautiful it almost seems borrowed from Heaven itself. Others are quartets, strolling carolers wandering through neighborhoods, or the faithful choir gathered in a church sanctuary. Each has its own special magic.

Several years ago, I had the privilege of witnessing a choir unlike any I had ever encountered.

I was appearing at a local mall during the Christmas season when a children's choir arrived to perform. After helping get everything organized and ready for their performance, I noticed a few children sitting nearby with their parents, waiting patiently for their turn
to sing.

With a little time before the program began, I walked over to visit
with them.

As I often do, I dropped down onto one knee so I could speak with them face-to-face. We began chatting about Christmas, their excitement for the season, and of course, what they hoped Santa might bring on Christmas morning.

What I didn't notice was that word had begun to spread.

From every direction, more children started making their way toward me. One became three. Three became six. Six became twelve. Before I knew it, more than twenty children had gathered around me in a perfect circle.

I was completely surrounded.

Then it happened.

Like a dam bursting open, every child launched into a description of their Christmas wish list at exactly the same time.

One wanted a bicycle.

Another wanted a puppy.

A third wanted a video game.

Then came dolls, books, trains, clothes, skateboards, stuffed animals, and countless treasures only a child's imagination could dream up.

Twenty-two excited voices all speaking at once.

The sound washed over me like a wave.

At first I tried to listen, but soon all the words blended together into one giant Christmas whirlwind. It became less of a conversation and more of a symphony of excitement—a joyful roar unlike anything I had ever heard.

For a brief moment, I felt completely overwhelmed.

Then instinct took over.

I rose to my feet, bent slightly forward, placed a finger to my lips, and delivered the most impressive Santa-sized:

"SSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The sound echoed across the mall.

Instantly, silence.

The children froze.

The parents stared in amazement.

You could have heard a pin drop.

I looked around the circle and smiled.

"Thank you," I said. "Now let's try this one at a time."

The transformation was remarkable.

One by one, I pointed to each child. Each patiently waited their turn. Each shared their Christmas wishes with wonderful manners and bright smiles. We laughed together, talked about being good boys and girls, and shared the joy that only Christmas can bring.

Before they returned to their choir, each child received a hug, a candy cane, and my heartfelt thanks for spending a few moments with me.

But then something unexpected happened.

The children lined up under the direction of their choir leader and took their places on the stage.

Within moments, the same children who had moments earlier created a whirlwind of joyful noise transformed into something extraordinary.

The music began.

Their young voices rose together in perfect harmony, filling the mall with songs of Christmas.

As I listened, I felt a lump form in my throat.

My eyes began to water.

Standing there, I realized I wasn't simply listening to a children's choir.

I was witnessing something much deeper.

There is a purity in the hearts of children that reminds us what Christmas is truly about. Their faith is uncomplicated. Their joy is genuine. Their wonder is unrestrained.

For those few moments, their voices seemed to carry something greater than melody alone. They carried hope. They carried belief. They carried the timeless message of Christmas.

As the final notes drifted through the air, I stood quietly, grateful to have been there.

The children had come to meet Santa.

Yet somehow, they were the ones who gave the gift.

And as their voices rang out one final time, I could not help but think:

Hark! The herald angels sing, glory to the newborn King.

And for a brief moment, I believe I heard them.

Hark the Herald Angels Sing