Church Singings

If you read and liked Jayber Crow, I think you'll like an author from my grandmother's generation. Janice Holt Giles was one of my grandmother's favorite authors, and I have several of my grandmother's copies of her books. My favorites are those set in the Kentucky Hill country. She describes a life much like that depicted in Cynthia Rylant's picture book "When I Was Young in the Mountains, which my Arkansas-bred and born father gave us years ago, saying, "this is how I grew up." It's not how I grew up, but I have been to singings like these, singings where, by the time it's over, you can hardly talk because you've sung your voice right out of your body:

On a Sunday in midsummer Hod went to an all-day singing over on the next ridge. He felt listless about the walk over there, but he liked to sing, and maybe he'd feel better if he went.

The singing began about ten o'clock, the leader starting with some of the familiar songs. Everyone sang. The volume of sound that rose to the rafters of the little whitewashed chapel would have amazed a city preacher, accustomed only to the halfhearted efforts of his congregation. This was a noisy, joyous, hearty, lifting of voices.

On and on the singing went, alternating between the old and the familiar and the new and untried. When one leader grew tired, another took his place.... The people seemed never to tire. An all-day singing on the ridge was really an all-day singing! 

The men take turns leading at our singings- whichever of them knows the song best volunteers to take it. Some of them will have a pitch-pipe and they'll blow the right pitch when asked, but won't push it on another song leader who feels comfortable just starting without it. After a while they tire and it's no longer whoever knows it best, but who can make a tolerable effort. Mostly at our house we go around the circle picking out songs from the book, other places you just have to shout out the number you want in between songs. You have to time this just right, because you want to be sure to get your number out there quick, before we're off and on to another song, but not to call it out too soon, before the last note has died out. You don't want to be too abrupt, stepping on the last note of the previous song- that looks pushing, and shows your heart wasn't in the singing.

We've recorded many of them, and they don't really sound very pretty second hand like that. But from within, when you are singing your heart out, too- ah... it is very heaven.

The Enduring Hills, by Janice Holt Giles