Into every Christmas season, there floats a bit of lagniappe or two, just happening along to Bright you. Sometimes these floating, ethereal wonders have the gentle touch of a caught breath, and others have the impact of a crescendo-wave---they sweep you away so fast and so far that you’re swirling and swallowing and tumbling, and at last left gasping on the damp sand.
Caro called down the stairs just now, “Mama, when you have a minute, look at the program from
. It’s all cued up, and you just can’t miss
this song---it’s real and she’s not just pretending for the camera like the
others---you can even see her breath fogging the air.” Rockefeller
And a voice like this seems as if it WOULD dominate and take over the entire being to whom it’s entrusted. It must have a life of its own, brilliant with tone, and vibrant with joy and power.