Somewhere in the realms of heaven,the angel with the beautiful voice heard the gong struck thrice. "That's the choir practice gong!," she cried excitedly to her friends, flapping her beautiful wings and running down the heavenly corridor to the choral hall, where the heavenly choir was getting ready to rehearse.
They all smiled at her, happy they were blessed with an angel with such a heavenly voice that when she sang, even stern Moses, rough Peter and strict Paul, stopped what they were doing, and listened to her, tears of joy streaming down their faces. They smiled at her, as she asked the choirmaster of the angelic throng, he with stern face, yet kindly smile, "Where are we going to sing this time? At the Gates of Heaven to welcome a new soul coming in, or do we sing at the Heavenly Hall, celebrating a sinner who is lost and has been found?"
"We sing on earth!," said the conductor.
"On earth," said the angel with the divine voice, "Why should we waste our time, singing for people who would not appreciate us? Oh I know!"
"Yes, dear angel, what do you know?"
"We go to sing in some Philharmonic choir on earth, isn't it, where our voices will rise in such harmony that those same earthly singers will stand amazed and know what real singing is?"
"No," said the conductor of the heavenly choir, "We will not be singing in a hall with the great choirs of earth, nor will we be singing to musicians and choristers who know music!"
"We won't?," asked the angel, disappointed. "Then where will we sing, and to whom?"
"To shepherds, looking after their sheep in the fields of Bethlehem!"
The angel with the beautiful voice put down her head and a tear escaped her lovely eyes, "We sing to lowly shepherds?," she asked aghast, "To men who wouldn't know the difference between sharp and flat, or the filthiness of their lives and the glory of our music?"
The choir master smiled broadly as he said, "To mankind who, through our song, will thereafter know that these glories of heaven belong to them! Who in hearing every note, every voice rising in crescendo from our lips, will marvel that what they see and hear is the Heaven they are invited to. A heaven opening her skies through us, to reveal its awesomeness, its magnificence and splendour! To tell them that if they believe in the little Baby whose birth we are to announce, this Heaven is theirs!"
That night, as the heavenly chorus sang to the lowly shepherds in the fields of Bethlehem, one little angel, with the loveliest voice of all, sang forth with joy and happiness and felt tears roll down her shiny cheeks as humble faces looked up in awe. "God's perfect kingdom is yours," she sang in descant, "Exchange your earthly sadness for heavenly joy. Your worries for divine peace! Just believe in that Babe born in yon manger..!"