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Once
upon a village, the snow fell lightly covering the houses below.
On the ground the snow stayed white forever, and it was ideal
for children to play and make snowmen of various sizes and
shapes. And a day outside in this magical weather was enough to
warm our hearts.
 There
were many warm memories that filled my heart when I started to
write my Christmas songs, and it was truly a labour of love.
I
was born in Big Pond in 1944 to Catherine Renee and Neil J.
MacNeil. I was one of eight children, and for a number of years,
we all lived in the back of the general store that my father had
built. He was a carpenter and my mother, a gentle woman, who I
am sure had secret dreams which she tried to realize through her
children.
They were simple folk in a grand way and in my mind Christmas
was a time when they tried so hard to give in a way that showed
the extent of their love.
My
father put his talent to work by surprising me with a cradle for
Christmas, made by his own hands. It was not unusual to find
handmade rocking horses, cradles, wagons, and homemade dolls. To
this day, those are the gifts I remember.
It
was said that my father on one particular Christmas, walked 29
miles to the town of Sydney to get supplies. The road was closed
to any form of transportation but this did not stop him from
making sure we had what we needed. For the days I questioned his
love, I remembered this story and I knew his heart.
Big Pond, being a small village, was in many ways a close
community. The Christmas school concert was a big event and I
can remember walking over the road holding a glass Scotty dog
that I was given when we exchanged gifts at school.
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At
the end of the days we were always exposed to the sounds
of the radio, playing Christmas carols in the
background, and the smell of home baked goodies in the
kitchen. Given that the days were cold, a pastime for me
was blowing my warm breath on the frozen ice on the
window pane and watching images change before my eyes.
To
this day it's the one time I feel it's so important for
families to come together. In a not so perfect world,
that does not always happen. But there is one place we
can make it happen; in our hearts.
When I look back over the years of my childhood, it is
no secret we had our share of struggle and hard times
and sometimes that was impossible to ignore. But there
was love that came through and filled the gap, and it
was truly the Gift of Love that I remember under the
tree.
St.
Mary's Church played a big part in the community.
Midnight mass was an event given that we had a choir
with a singer named Tilley, who's sweet sound rang out
like a strong bell that tolled for many years.
The priest, Fr. Stanley MacDonald, bellowed out in a
large voice to his congregation who dutifully listened -
partly out of fear- but mostly out of love.
He
spent much of his life in Big Pond and when I was a
child I remember him coming over to our house every day
and faithfully blessing my lip and asking God to bestow
favours upon the little girl who was born with a cleft
lip. I, in turn, would comb his thick white hair. In a
way we both had our daily ritual which we performed with
love.
The
church itself was built in the 1800's and inside it is
small and simple. I have often joked in concert about
the hard kneeling benches and the hard pews we had to
sit on. To me, it was a penance that I don't care to
repeat!
The
image of that church, in its beautiful setting, has been
an inspiration for many of my Christmas songs, like
"Night To Remember", "Bright Light",
"Mary Mary", and especially "Now The
Bells Ring". |
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Although
the church was small in stature, to me, it reads like a
cathedral in my mind. Over the years there have been few changes
to the structure and it was with great pride that I was able to
shoot part of my first Christmas special there.
It is no wonder I am drawn back in spirit to this place I love,
which has the child in me for so many years.
This
recording is a collection of songs which came about as a result
of remembering the past Christmas' and also the hope that lies
ahead in the future of all our futures. May we as people bring
peace to each other by our words and actions - no ribbon or
paper required to wrap this gift...
..........................................................................................................................................
"Rita
MacNeil creates magic of Christmas with lovely voice... You see
the silent wonder of a child laying in a manger. The gathering
of 'ye neighbours' on Christmas Eve at a tiny cobblestone
church...Or a little girl rocking her baby to sleep in a wooden
doll carriage made by her dad. These are the yuletide scenes
painted by the songs of Rita MacNeil."
- The Macomb Daily, Michigan
"She introduced each song with a
family-oriented tale. Some produced laughs...others pulled
tears. All provided for an embracing prelude to MacNeil's
well-crafted tunes."
- The Buffalo News, New York
"...Her Christmas tour is all about personal memories with
universal appeal. It's her Christmas and yours, together."
- The Edmonton Journal, Alberta
"MacNeil concert gift to the heart"
- Calgary, AB
"Rapturous cheers greet every Rita song"
- Victoria, BC
"MacNeil ignites Yule spirit with own homespun songs"
- London, ON
"MacNeil enchants her audience"
- Edmonton, AB
"Rita does it just so right"
- Halifax, NS
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