Noisy Night, Holy Night
X3^
t*PO- i^a3
NOISY NIGHT, HOLY NIGHT
happier places and times. Like the others I shifted position once more and, glancing at my watch, contin ued my wait. There in the Indianapolis bus
terminal I was midway on my long trek home for the holidays. Final exams at my college had left me ex hausted, and so far old memories had been my only companions on
the long bus ride. My solitude settl ed comfortably around me, remov ing me from the flow of fellow travelers. Like me, most were lost in their thoughts.
The bus finally arrived, long overdue, and I boarded, jostling with the other passengers. I sat di rectly behind the driver. Making
•Q*y^j2-^\_r^s~-if
o-j
95
vacation. Exhausting these topics, they began to read aloud from a book of poems compiled by their schoolmates.
Soon their voices were the only sound on the slumbering coach. Fueled by the excitement of the journey, the energy of the two young passengers behind me seem
ed never-ending. By the time we were two hours into our trip, they had begun to grate on the nerves of many aboard, some of whom they had wakened with their chatter.
The
tension
in
the
coach
only conversation during the entire six-hour trip to Chicago. Finally, the lights dimmed and
mounted when the two youngsters began a loud serenade of holiday carols. Oblivious to the unspoken animosity of the others, they warbled away at the top of their voices, pausing only long enough to invite everyone else to join in. The rest of the bus remained silent, however, with the exception of another boy and girl sarcastically
isolation returned as the coach
cat-calling from the rear of the
rolled out into the night. Within
bus.
myself comfortable,
I stretched
out my legs and introduced myself to my seatmate. It was to be our
minutes, most riders had settled
Prompted by the same naivete
down for a "long winter's nap."
that compelled them to sing for the
But not the occupants of the seat
other
immediately behind me—a girl of about 12 and a boy perhaps two
thought these calls were compli ments and began to sing even loud
years younger. Not as jaded as the older passengers, they were excited to be traveling and to be awake late at night.
er. Almost everyone on the bus annoyance and embarrassment. With what couldn't have been
They chattered gleefully about the things important to the chil dren at Christmas time—the gifts they'd gotten for their parents, the school Christmas pageant, and
poorer timing, a small baby woke up and began to cry. Whining quietly at first, the infant soon launched into a full-scale wail, silencing even the carolers.
homework to be done over the
fiMij,
passengers,
the
Noisy1' Holy Night The children on the bus sang, chattered, cried until our weary heads were bursting, and suddenly
carolers
brought Christmas home to all of us By MARY BURKE
Condensed from "Milwaukee Journal/Insight"*
was now awake and shared both
The
bus continued its long
L^rom my vantage point atop a
JL suitcase in the bus station,
everything looked tired that dreary December night. A few strands of
low walls, echoing the spirits of the travelers below.
Resigned,
aimless
movements
marked the idle minutes each pass tinsel sagged against the faded yel enger endured before departing for -Journal Square. Milwaukee. Wi3. 53201. June 20. 1902. ©.1982 by .he Milwaukee Journal and 7^
reprinted wilh permission.
t*PO- i^a3
NOISY NIGHT, HOLY NIGHT
happier places and times. Like the others I shifted position once more and, glancing at my watch, contin ued my wait. There in the Indianapolis bus
terminal I was midway on my long trek home for the holidays. Final exams at my college had left me ex hausted, and so far old memories had been my only companions on
the long bus ride. My solitude settl ed comfortably around me, remov ing me from the flow of fellow travelers. Like me, most were lost in their thoughts.
The bus finally arrived, long overdue, and I boarded, jostling with the other passengers. I sat di rectly behind the driver. Making
•Q*y^j2-^\_r^s~-if
o-j
95
vacation. Exhausting these topics, they began to read aloud from a book of poems compiled by their schoolmates.
Soon their voices were the only sound on the slumbering coach. Fueled by the excitement of the journey, the energy of the two young passengers behind me seem
ed never-ending. By the time we were two hours into our trip, they had begun to grate on the nerves of many aboard, some of whom they had wakened with their chatter.
The
tension
in
the
coach
only conversation during the entire six-hour trip to Chicago. Finally, the lights dimmed and
mounted when the two youngsters began a loud serenade of holiday carols. Oblivious to the unspoken animosity of the others, they warbled away at the top of their voices, pausing only long enough to invite everyone else to join in. The rest of the bus remained silent, however, with the exception of another boy and girl sarcastically
isolation returned as the coach
cat-calling from the rear of the
rolled out into the night. Within
bus.
myself comfortable,
I stretched
out my legs and introduced myself to my seatmate. It was to be our
minutes, most riders had settled
Prompted by the same naivete
down for a "long winter's nap."
that compelled them to sing for the
But not the occupants of the seat
other
immediately behind me—a girl of about 12 and a boy perhaps two
thought these calls were compli ments and began to sing even loud
years younger. Not as jaded as the older passengers, they were excited to be traveling and to be awake late at night.
er. Almost everyone on the bus annoyance and embarrassment. With what couldn't have been
They chattered gleefully about the things important to the chil dren at Christmas time—the gifts they'd gotten for their parents, the school Christmas pageant, and
poorer timing, a small baby woke up and began to cry. Whining quietly at first, the infant soon launched into a full-scale wail, silencing even the carolers.
homework to be done over the
fiMij,
passengers,
the
Noisy1' Holy Night The children on the bus sang, chattered, cried until our weary heads were bursting, and suddenly
carolers
brought Christmas home to all of us By MARY BURKE
Condensed from "Milwaukee Journal/Insight"*
was now awake and shared both
The
bus continued its long
L^rom my vantage point atop a
JL suitcase in the bus station,
everything looked tired that dreary December night. A few strands of
low walls, echoing the spirits of the travelers below.
Resigned,
aimless
movements
marked the idle minutes each pass tinsel sagged against the faded yel enger endured before departing for -Journal Square. Milwaukee. Wi3. 53201. June 20. 1902. ©.1982 by .he Milwaukee Journal and 7^
reprinted wilh permission.
