The residents of the assisted living complex had just started to eat their supper in the dining room when the carolers from a local church arrived. Twenty singers filed in. They hugged the wall, looking quite uncomfortable. They kept their eyes glued to their sheet music, with their voices raised in a loud cheery fa la la la la li-la-la-la! Then they filed out again and headed down the halls, singing about a white Christmas.

“That was fast!” one of the diners announced to no one in particular.

Conversation resumed. The carolers' songs faded into background music as the visiting church members journeyed around the facility, oblivious to the fact that, with the exception of two hospice patients, all the residents were in the dining room eating.

The second group of carolers was smaller and arrived as dessert was being served. Their singing was far less confident, but their eye contact was better. Many of the residents put down their spoons, and settled back to listen. For a moment it was a beautiful sight, a happy sort of night with sleigh-bells ringing; a winter wonderland.

Then that second group of carolers also exited the dining room and began touring the empty hallways; fa la la la la li-la-la-la!

The residents slowly picked up their spoons again, and ate their fudge sundaes.

Before leaving the building, that second group of carolers returned to the dining room, and the spoons of the residents returned to the tables.

“Silent night, holy night.” they sang weakly, but then all became calm and all became bright. Residents relaxed further back into their chairs and wheelchairs. Many closed their eyes as they listened to the hymn, some sang along.

“Merry Christmas everyone!” the minister of the second group exclaimed. “We're from the such and such church. Happy Holidays!”

“Merry Christmas!” most of the residents responded sincerely.

Then the carolers left and the spoons lifted again. For a long time the residents peacefully enjoyed their melting ice cream.

After dessert, a staff person announced that she had lit the fire in the center's living room, she was making popcorn, and the movie was going to be “White Christmas,” at 8 p.m.

Residents began to stand up, grab hold of their walkers, and head toward the dining room doors. Those who could wheel themselves in their wheelchairs followed, while the staff helped the rest. Most of them headed directly to bed, but fifteen arrived in the living room for the movie at 8 p.m. They settled into, or were transferred into, comfy chairs, and received bags of popcorn.

The third group of carolers arrived about 20 minutes into the movie - the biggest group yet; forty choir members from a popular church.

“I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas!” they sang in perfect harmony, posing in the doorway, performing for those in the living room..

“Me too!” an old man yelled at them, causing his fellow movie watchers to erupt in laughter. Much encouraged, the choir sang another carol. Then they took off down the halls, in full voice, blissfully unaware that residents might sleeping and that two people in the building were close to death.

For a little while the movie watchers could hear Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye again, but soon the third church choir returned, singing about being jolly and about holly.

“Oh FA LA LA li LAH, li La, La, LAAAA!” screeched an ancient woman from the far end of the living room. Her voice carried very well but her sarcasm was lost on the church choir.

A staff member took charge. She discreetly turned off the movie with the remote, and waited politely until the end of the song. Then she thanked the choir warmly for their visit.

The choir took a moment to compose themselves before singing their final piece.

“Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright...”

They sang like angels.

Then, with the dawn of redeeming grace, they quietly filed out of the building.

The residents in the living room sat together in deep silence for a long spell before they finally struggled to their beds.