Angels' Voices, Ever Singing

Angels' Voices, Ever Singing For Aunt Hazel Hensel Hazel's voice ratcheted like a rusty porch swing; it bumped against syllables, rasped through ribs to emerge from her tiny body whole, beautiful, but rough. She couldn't sing, so the piano became her voice; fingers played notes her vocal cords could only reach haltingly. Every Sunday afternoon, after services and full-spread dinners, Sarah, her sister, visited. Together they sat on the bench, Hazel's fingers knowing the chords, her foot stroking the pedal, Sarah's voice singing high quavering melodies. They started at the front of the brown Methodist hymnal: O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing, Come, Ye That Love the Lord, their bodies swaying together through Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty, Come, Thou Almighty King, until they hit the final note of Angels' Voices, Ever Singing. —Jim Minick 99 ...