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Stories from the Verse
Con Version
Chapter 169: Cooper 54
Table of Contents
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Brian packed up the first pile of music as the adult choir moved in to take the seats rapidly vacated by their teen predecessors. There were about thirty members present. Then he had a thought.
“I think,” he said, “it would be good for us to begin with prayer.” The choristers looked at each other, but there was no objection, so he began, “Our God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, we humbly bring you the gifts you have given us, asking that you use them for Your glory and the advance of Your Kingdom in the world. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
There was a rustle as everyone returned to their normal postures, and he continued. “As you probably heard, I’m your new choir director. I told the kids to call me Mister Barrelmaster, and I don’t mind if you call me that, although I’m not uncomfortable being Brian to you all. Just as long as you do so respectfully.” He smiled at this, and there was a twitter among the group.
“You’re a four-part choir, so by hands, where are my Sopranos?” Twelve women, again on his left and including Maggie Smith, raised hands. “Altos are then over here?” There were eight of them on the right. He looked at the ten men in the back. “Tenors?” There were three, seated behind the altos. “And of course, basses,” who were the other seven. It looked like a decent group.
“All right, let’s see what you can do,” and he began passing out sheet music.
He worked them hard for an hour, thanked them, told them he was very pleased, and dismissed them.
He packed up the music and took it back to the library, telling himself he would put it away tomorrow. Between now and then he would consider which pieces he wanted to put on the top of the list for the weeks ahead. He was locking the library door when he heard Pastor Tom.
“Oh, good, I caught you.”
“Pastor?” he responded. “Is there a problem?”
“Oh, no, nothing really. You didn’t tell me your niece was an M.K.”
“An M.K.?”
“Missionary’s Kid?”
He couldn’t really say it was because he didn’t know. “Um--I guess I didn’t think of it. Does it matter?”
“Well, she really impressed her Sunday School teacher this week, and it’s been spreading around. I’m wondering if she might be willing to share some of her experiences with the congregation, and whether she would be interested in teaching one of the children’s Sunday School classes.”
Somehow he doubted it, but he wasn’t going to open that can of worms.
“I’ll mention it to her.”
“Thank you. Well, how did practice go?”
“Rather well, I think.”
“Good. Leave a note for Miss Granger with what the choir will sing on Sunday, so she can put it in the bulletin. Good night!”
Right. He unlocked the door and dug through the desk for a pen and a pad of paper, so he could write the note.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
