He talked about how he doesn't like Christmas much, until he can disassociate himself from the hustle and bustle, and focus on the good things about Christmas and what the season really means. Then he took one of the church hymnals and turned to a familiar carol. He read the words. Slowly. Then he flipped to another and read the words. Slowly. He repeated this process over and over and, slowly, we all were wrapped in a spirit of wonder and comfort and joy that was enhanced when he played the last carol on his old violin. The man is missing part of a thumb, but he made that instrument sound so sweet. I wasn't the only one with tears in my eyes.