"But Mum, I want to help," young Luke Blake insisted. "Can I peel potatoes for you?"
Jean had to suppress a sigh. As much as she loved her son, preparing Christmas dinner for a houseful of people was not made any easier when he was underfoot. She cast a pleading look across the room toward her husband.
Lucien folded the newspaper he had been reading and stood up. "How about this, Luke?" he said. "We can get everyone into the right mood with some Christmas carols. I'll play and you can sing."
"Would that help you, Mum?" he asked hopefully.
"That would be the best help of all, sweetheart," she assured him, kissing the top of his head.
"Come on, Dad," said Luke, rushing over to grab his hand and drag him toward the piano.
Jean mouthed, "thank you" as Lucien smiled at her and allowed himself to be dragged.
He sat down on the bench and patted for Luke to join him. "Which one first? How about 'Silent Night'?"
Luke nodded vigorously, wriggling a little in anticipation.
Lucien smiled and began to play a simple version of the classic melody, singing the words and waiting for Luke to join in. The boy quickly did so, his high, clear voice complementing his father's deeper one.
When they had finished, Luke looked up. "That song is about when the baby Jesus was born, right, Dad?"
"That's right."
'I didn't think babies were silent at night," he related. "Amelia says her baby brother cries all the time at night. He wakes her up."
Lucien worked to keep a straight face. "That's because baby Christopher has the colic. I don't think baby Jesus had the colic."
Luke nodded. That made sense to him. "Okay. Can we do Rudolph next?"
With a smile, Lucien launched into the much more up-tempo carol, allowing Luke to lead the singing and joining in only when the boy stumbled over the words.
"You like that one, don't you?" he said when they had finished.
"Yes. But I don't like it when the other reindeers pick on Rudolph just because he's different. That's not nice. Someone should stand up for him."
"Well, I think Santa stood up for him when he let Rudolph lead the way, don't you?"
"Hurrah for Santa!"
"Indeed," said Lucien. "What next?"
"Drummer Boy?" Luke suggested.
"Only if you'll do the drum part, like this," said Lucien, flattening his hands and slapping them rhythmically along the piano's frame below the keyboard.
Dutifully, Luke tried the pahrupahpahpum. Lucien gave him an encouraging smile and began to play the tune.
The boy sang the last line alone. "Then she smiled at me, pahrupahpahpum, me and my drum."
Lucien smiled down at him proudly.
"Dad, you used to play the drums, didn't you?"
"I did, indeed. But I never played at the manger, if that's what you're going to ask."
"Noo, I know that," said Luke. "I was going to ask if you would teach me how to play the drums."
"Oh?" Lucien could practically hear Jean frowning and shaking her head vigorously from the kitchen. "I'll tell you what. You're pretty small to be able to reach all the parts of the kit just yet. When you're eight years old, if you still want to learn to play, I"ll teach you. Do we have a deal?"
"That's a long time."
"Yes, it is. But it will give you time to be sure you really want to learn."
"I guess so."
"You have a good sense of rhythm. That's one of the most important things for a drummer to have. Now, what shall we sing next for Mum?"
Luke grinned and began singing, "Angels from the realms of glory wing your flight o'er all the earth…"
When he reached the chorus, Lucien joined in. "Gloria in excelsis Deo, Gloria in excelsis Deo."
Luke stopped after two verses, then again looked up at his father. "Who is Gloria?"
"Who is Gloria?" Lucien frowned, confused.
"Yes, in the song. We have a Gloria at school, but she isn't very nice. I don't think angels would sing about her."
Lucien could hear Jean snickering in the kitchen, which made it even harder for him not to chuckle himself. He never wanted his son to feel hesitant about asking questions. "Gloria isn't a person. It's Latin for 'glory'. The song says 'Glory to God in the highest'."
"Oh. That makes more sense," Luke said, very seriously. "What next?"
"How about this one?" And he began to sing, "Have yourself a merry little Christmas".
Luke didn't know the words to that one so he just watched and listened. As Lucien finished, he looked up to see Jean watching them from the doorway.
"That one always makes me feel like crying," she said.
"I know," said Luke. "If it's 'a merry little Christmas' why is it so sad?"
"It's from a film. A girl who is away from the place and people she loves sings it. She is hoping for a happy Christmas for others, and hoping hers will be better next year. Sometimes Christmas can be sad if you're alone."
"Were you ever alone at Christmas, Dad?"
"I'm afraid I was, for many Christmases," he admitted. Then he smiled the smile that always made Jean's heart melt. "But I met your Mum. And then you came along, too. Now I never have to think about being sad at Christmas, except for other people who aren't as fortunate as we are."
Luke threw his arms around his father's middle, hugging him fiercely. "Yes, we're very fortunate, aren't we?"
"We are indeed," Jean agreed, stepping forward to quickly kiss Lucien's cheek and the top of Luke's head. "Now, I could use some help with setting the table. Who wants to be my helper?"
"Me!" said Luke, raising his hand.
Lucien moved to stand as well, but Jean pushed him back down. "You stay right there, my darling. You aren't going anywhere until you sing my favorite carol."
"Yes, dear," he sighed, smiling all the while. "But it's much better suited to your lovely voice."
"Very well. Luke and I can sing while we finish up, can't we?" She ruffled the boy's hair.
Dutifully, Lucien began to play the opening chords of "Oh, Holy Night."
The Blake family was still singing when their guests began to arrive and join in. And indeed they had themselves a very merry little Christmas.