“It came upon the midnight clear/ That glorious song of old...”

It was the middle of a cloudy afternoon, not a clear midnight by any stretch, but singing the age-old carols of Peace on Earth was still glorious.

Okay, honestly, I was cold, our group patched together for caroling was small and motley, and our singing was not rehearsed; the standard dictionary definitions of “glorious” may not have strictly applied. We were not “having, worthy of, or bringing fame or admiration” or “having a striking beauty

or splendor that evokes feelings of delighted admiration.” We were just a handful in number, ranging in age from my one-year-old son to a grandpa, with a small showing from all the decades in between.

Our sleigh was a secondhand school bus, and we piled out unceremoniously when the doors whooshed open at each house.

I had not dressed well enough for the occasion, lulled into naiveté by the coziness of our home that morning and the unseasonable warmth of the day before. My jeans’ holes in the knees were not the fashionable kind, and they were certainly more ventilating than suitable for the temperature outside.

For some reason I let Benson pick my coat, and he chose the one too light for the day, especially considering the bus wasn’t heated. My gloves weren’t in the pockets like I thought they would be, and Benson refuses to keep his mittens on for longer than seven seconds so I didn’t even bring them; both of us had very cold hands after three and a half hours out and about. We did both wear hats, so at least we had that going for us.

I love music, and I play several instruments, but I do not sing well. Benson has some frabjous dance moves, loves to turn my piano-playing into duets, and delights in listening to music or pounding away on unattended drums at church — but considering he only says like two dozen words, his contribution to the caroling was minimal. He did offer some vocalizations during a song or two, but too quietly for anyone else to hear and definitely not following along with the lyrics. So I was very thankful for the others’ vocal talents, and the people we sang to were also certainly glad I was not singing alone.

Side note, I never realized how many carols include lines about sleep, until I sang them while holding a toddler who fake-snores every time he hears the word.

It’s easy for me to hang onto romanticized ideals of what caroling is like, but whether or not it turns out gloriously, I love it. While there are rarely Hallmark-special moments of holiday cheer, I do maintain that there is something beautiful and meaningful about singing “that glorious song of old.” It’s not the singing that’s glorious; it’s the song. The song of “Peace on the earth, good will to men/ From heaven’s all-gracious King,” the tidings of comfort and joy that take many forms during the Christmas season, but always point back to the coming of Emmanuel.

I loved introducing Benson to the waning tradition of caroling, and look forward to seeing his contribution change as he grows over the years. This year, he more than made up for his lack of vocal participation with many sweet waves and blown kisses, a perfect way to spread Christmas cheer. We

warmed up our cold little selves at home with soup and hot chocolate — and dressed more warmly when we went out caroling again the next night.

Spicy Roasted Tomato Soup

This was the perfect way to warm up after a chilly afternoon of caroling, the soup hot in both temperature and spiciness. I am still using up the gallons of green garden tomatoes I harvested before the frost, picking them out as they ripen on newspapers in the basement — but you can use storebought tomatoes like a normal person, or even canned. Either way, the bonus is that the oven being on will get you warmed even in the process of cooking. Benson helped by stabbing all the tomatoes within reach with a pen, but this special action is not necessary for your soup to succeed.

Prep tips: deseed your jalapeño and/or only blend it in by bits if you just need to be warmed up and not on fire.

olive oil

4 lb roma-style tomatoes, halved [or two 28-oz cans whole tomatoes]

1 jalapeño, halved

coarse salt and pepper

fresh or dried thyme

1 large yellow onion, sliced

2 tablespoons tomato paste

1 teaspoon chili powder

2-4 cups chicken broth, preferably homemade

Drizzle olive oil on a rimmed baking sheet. Arrange tomatoes and pepper on sheet, cut side up, and sprinkle with salt, pepper, and generous sprinkles of thyme. Roast at 420° for 30-45 minutes, until tomatoes are shriveling and looking roasty.

Meanwhile, heat another drizzle of oil in a saucepan. Add onion and saute over medium-high heat until it is browned. Stir in the tomato paste and chili powder, then stir in the broth and bring to a simmer for a few minutes.

Once tomatoes are roasted, let them cool slightly, then add to a high-powered blender along with the broth mixture. Carefully process, with lid vented, until totally smooth (let cool and reheat if necessary).

Adjust seasoning to taste and serve immediately.

Amanda Miller lives with her husband, almost-two-years-old son, and whoever else God brings them through foster care on the family dairy farm in Hutchinson. She enjoys doing some catering, teaching cooking classes, and freelancing, but mostly chasing after her kid(s). Reach her at hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.