It was December 19, 1982, our first Sunday as pastor and family at Pritchard Memorial Baptist Church in Charlotte.

Our loving congregation enjoyed a long-time tradition of caroling throughout Charlotte the Sunday night before Christmas.

Our church rented buses and sang to shut-ins and others who could not get out for Christmas events.

With excitement and anticipation, our younger son Jonathan and I left the house to join my husband, Jack and older son Mark already at the church.

Entering the church, beautifully decorated Christmas trees, garlands of greenery and candles adorned the sanctuary.

Many greeted us and excitement sizzled. Shortly after these greetings, Jonathan threw up. I felt his head and he said, “Mommy, I don’t feel good.”

I knew we had to leave.

As we drove home, I cried. I was so saddened that it was our first Christmas here, and we missed the caroling. Jonathan also cried because we told him how much fun this would be and afterwards everyone would have cookies and hot chocolate together.

We sadly trudged up the steps to the back door. Later, cuddling close, I read him Christmas stories.

Jonathan soon said he felt better and I looked forward to getting him in bed. Tears filled my eyes remembering the hope I had of this night and how dismal it became.

The doorbell rang. Who could that be?

I went to the door and Jonathan followed. When we opened the door, there was a city bus in the driveway and carolers piled out singing, “Joy to the World!”

As they sang, we listened and shed joyful tears. We thanked them and waved goodbye. The night became a joyful remembrance of love in a unique and memorable way our first Christmas in Charlotte.

Linda Maguire is a novelist, retired teacher and member of Authors for Literacy.