While I was visiting with my family, we got talking about something that always happened to us each year when we’d make the 6-hour drive from our house to grandma’s. It didn’t matter how hard we tried, we would always leave later than we planned. We would put on the radio, and tune in a radio station. My sister says it was CBC but I’m not so sure. Every year, at noon, they would play “The Littlest Angel”. And, predictably, every year, we would enter an area where we could no longer get the radio signal before the story was over. Every year, I would hope that we could have the signal just a little bit longer. Every year, I would hope to find out what would happen to the sad little guy. But every year, it was the same. That deep voice would get lost in first a little bit of static, then more, until we couldn’t hear him any more.
One time, we didn’t end up going on the big trip to Grandma’s, and I finally got to hear the end of the story. I was way too old to care about a story like this, but still I listened. That’s when I relized just how close to the end of the story we got each year.
I found the version of the story they’d always play on Youtube, and here it is.
There’s something about that voice that would always catch my attention, more than him just having a nice voice. I realize now, that I think I always thought he sounded just a smidge like my step-grandpa who passed away last January. As I thought about it again this year, since this was the first Christmas he’s been gone.
So,if anyone else has a similar experience, or just likes listening to this version, here it is. Enjoy.