154 The Meadow Their old familiar carols play, I can feel my voice rise to an uncommon perfection. I begin thinking of those neighing horses whose lives mean no more than Caesar’s coin to most of their owners. My voice penetrates the walls of the racetrack kitchen. I can see Bill and Lalo standing in the doorway, ready to guzzle their beer but motionless in their attention to my voice as I sing: “And in despair I bowed my head, There is no peace on earth, I said. For hate is strong and mocks the song, Of Peace on earth good will to men.” I end here, leaving the last more hopeful verse unsung. Then, in a cracking, hoarse voice, Reverend Kruger sings the ending: “And pealed the bells more loud and deep, God is not dead nor doth He sleep. The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, With peace on earth good will to men.” Reverend Kruger glances around the circle of racetrackers, and begins reading from the bible: “And so it was, that while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her first born son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. And when they were departed, behold the angel of the Lord appeareth to Joseph in a dream, saying, ‘Arise, and take the young child and his mother, and flee into Egypt and be thou there until I bring thee word; for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him.’” The room has become silent. Reverend Kruger stares at each man and woman sitting and standing in our circle. “Jesus Christ was born in the same kind of stable where each one of you works seven days a week,” he begins. “He worked with his hands as you work with your hands. He suffered in the
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