It was dark when we pulled up in the wilds of Locust Fork, Alabama. A big group of us. The small house stood in the country. I think the cows were watching us.
A throng of us fell out of our vehicles like clowns riding in circus cars. We had guitars, banjos, accordions. It was cold, we were wearing jackets and goofy smiles.
“Shouldn’t we knock on the door first?” someone said.
“No, you don’t knock on the door.”
“But how will they hear us if we don’t tell them we’re here?”
“We have to sing loud and wait for them to offer us figgy pudding and stuff.”
“This house is built like Fort Knox. They’ll never hear us outside.”
Thus, we all stared at the cold, masonry exterior looking back at us. We sang as loud as we could.
For song lyrics, some of us carried paper books. Others just made them up. We sang the main carols. “Silent Night,” “The First Noel,” “Bohemian Rhapsody.”
We waited for someone inside to notice us, lingering outdoors, wearing our funny hats, wassailing our butts off. But nobody did at first.
Someone among us pointed out the obvious. “We are, literally, singing to a wall.”
Then we saw a young woman come to the door. She was slender and small. College age. Her hair is the color of fire. She has a tiny feeding tube affixed beneath her nose. Her steps were cautious, but we were all so proud she was walking again. There are a lot of people who have been praying for Morgan Love.
Morgan has been through hell. She’s been in and out of hospitals for most of this year. Recently, she just arrived home from Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta. Her stomach and intestines haven’t been working right. But through it all, the young woman has remained a spear of sunshine in a dark world.
Many of her doctors and nurses don’t know quite how she manages such cheer. “This is the story God has written for me,” says Morgan. “He doesn’t write bad stories.”
The young woman stood on the front stoop of her house, hugging herself from the cold, watching us sing, and singing along. Then we all waited in line to hug her. Everyone got a turn.
I held Morgan in my arms and worried that I might break her. But then I realized something. If there is one thing the last year has taught me, it’s that nothing can break Morgan Love.
