A lifetime ago, I was a member of a church in Alpharetta, GA. I regularly annoyed others’ with my opinions and ideas. Apparently a Baptist Sunday school class is not a good setting for philosophical discussions. 🙂 The class was able to tolerate my presence after I said something negative about missionaries but they could not forgive me for daring to disagree when they started speaking hate about sexual orientations. Even my now ex-husband suggested I find something else to do in church during that hour of time. The woman who interpreted the services wanted someone to do the sign language interpretation in the sanctuary until the sermon began so that she could sing in the choir loft. I thought it sounded like fun and since there were two services, that would get me out of Sunday school. Every week I used a book to memorize the signs for that Sunday’s hymns and on Sundays I signed until the she left the choir loft just before the sermon. After a few months of this it came time for the church’s big Christmas service. There would be no sermon, only a choir program and the interpreter really wanted to sing. So, I spent several weeks practicing and preparing for the big program. The day came and I interpreted (I use that term loosely) two full programs of Handel’s “Messiah”. I had sooo much fun that when my now ex told me he was leaving, I was actually excited about going back to school to get an Interpreting degree (and learn I had been making some huge errors). I am completely out of practice now, but Christmas and Christmas music always make my hands a little twitchy, because that is when I found my voice.