that’s great for an acoustic session like this , and my uncles picked it up pretty quickly and without issue or complaint. What started the kids talking though, was when Tristan gave his approval by saying, “Ozzy…nice,” thereby informing the “Righteous Four” they were listening to a song by a guy who supposedly bit the head off a live bat in concert, which, of course, makes him a devil worshiper. And even if that doesn’t on its own, well, everyone just knows Ozzy is Satan’s minstrel. And obviously, since it was Brandon who started it and looking the way he does, he must be in league with the big bad dude , too. Ugh. I mean really, of all the narrow-minded opinions...
They didn’t come right out and state those prejudicial opinions to the group at large , though. They just started whispering to each other and without really meaning to, they whispered loud enough for those around them to overhear. And because this is what inevitably happens when you talk about people behind their back in a large group like this, what they were saying made its way down the line to get over to where Brandon was sitting with Derek, MaryAnn, and Melissa. I swear it was like the freaking game, Telephone, except not much of the condemnation being passed along was lost in translation. And I’m not going to get into specifics about what exactly they were saying, but suffice it to say they weren’t surprised that Brandon would play “this” kind of music and he was clearly going to hell. And yeah, I kept thinking that whoever invited these people to our Thanksgiving desert trip and thought they’d fit in with all of us should be flogged for their idiocy and prohibited from extending any future invitations without having their choices vetted first. And not just for our sakes but for the visitors’ comfort as well, you know? I mean I can’t imagine these kids or their parents feel very comfortable camping out with a bunch of drinking, swearing, non-church going heathens who make up a portion of my family and a good majority of all the other people who party in the desert.
Anyway, I was watching when word got around to Brandon. He was playing and singing a little and then he casually leaned over to hear what Derek wanted to whisper to him. And I gotta give him credit here; all he did was lift an eyebrow. I mean that’s it—I don’t even know if it was in surprise, anger, irritation or what , but if it were me, I’m sure I would’ve at least grunted in my defense, you know? But Brandon didn’t utter a single disagreeable sound and just kept on playing. Melissa on the other hand looked pretty aggrieved on his behalf and kept glaring at the four kids , and I thought for a second she might even say something, but when Brandon ever so smoothly transitioned into an actual Christian song called “How Great is Our God” by a contemporary Christian artist by the name of Chris Tomlin, Melissa’s expression turned smug and the four teens’ turned to varying shades of shame. Honestly, it was beautiful.
No, I mean it…it was absolutely beautiful. Brandon sang most of it by himself , but towards the end, Melissa came in and harmonizing with him, she slowly replaced the lyrics that went with the original song to some from the hymn “How Great Thou Art.” Listening to the two of them sing that song, it was like they’d transformed our campfire into a circle of worship under the star-filled night sky and I swear you could feel God’s loving presence. And I have no problem whatsoever admitting that I was moved to the point of tears.
“Goodness , you two…that was simply touching,” my mom told Brandon and Melissa when they finished, obviously agreeing with my sentiments as I saw her wipe a stray tear from her cheek. “It’s really a shame that not everyone appreciates a talent such as yours though , Brandon, regardless of whether the form that talent takes is to a person’s individual taste. After all, many from my
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