Tuba Christmas at LifeScape: 38 years of big brass, big hearts, forever memories

This piece is sponsored by LifeScape.

The gym inside LifeScape’s Children’s Services building held a familiar kind of anticipation on Dec. 13.

Children and adults supported, their families, staff and volunteers awaited the beginning of a beloved holiday tradition. Then, as more than a hundred tuba and euphonium players raised their bells and took that first deep breath together, the room shifted. For the 38th year, Tuba Christmas had returned to LifeScape.

What began in 1988 as a simple idea — bring holiday brass music to children at the former Children’s Care Hospital & School — has grown into one of LifeScape’s most enduring traditions.

Tuba Christmas leader Alan Berdahl remembers the earliest days well: a small group of just 33 low brass players, a gym full of children and a hope that the concert might bring them joy.

“I think the irony,” he said with a smile, “is that we may have become the greater recipients of joy. Their reactions, that’s what keeps you coming back.”

Even now, after nearly four decades, that connection sparks the instant the first notes of “Adeste Fideles” ring out. Berdahl describes the opening as a kind of “kung pow” moment, a bold, blossoming chord that can startle, surprise and inevitably coax a grin from anyone within earshot. Around him, musicians as young as 7 and as seasoned as 90 settle into a familiar rhythm of giving: offering their sound, their time and their hearts to an audience that feels every note.

LifeScape’s volunteer coordinator, Becky Sluiter, sees that energy ripple through the gym every year. At first, she said, students and adults supported by LifeScape become very still, quietly absorbing the powerful vibrations of the brass ensemble. But as the music continues, as classic carols fill the space and the musicians lean into their harmonies, the room begins to bloom. Feet start tapping. Shoulders sway. Smiles spread from row to row. For many, it becomes a sensory wonderland of movement, rhythm and the kind of joy that doesn’t need words.

Sluiter explained that the holidays can stir deep emotions, especially for children and adults with complex medical needs. Yet Tuba Christmas seems to rise above it all, lifting spirits, connecting people who might not share language or background and filling the building with a brightness that lasts long after the final song.

“It’s a joyful experience that lifts people’s souls,” she said. “For 38 years, these musicians have shown up for our kids, rain, snow, below-zero temps, and they play with their whole hearts.”

Behind the effortless-seeming experience is a tremendous amount of dedication. The musicians hold only one large practice before coming to LifeScape. Coordinating transportation, insurance, schedules and equipment falls to the Tuba Christmas leadership team, including Berdahl and co-leader Roylan Beaird. LifeScape prepares the gym, adds festive touches, welcomes families of the players and lines hallways with handmade banners and decorations crafted by volunteers. It is, as Sluiter describes it, “like welcoming old friends home.”

Perhaps what makes the event even more meaningful is who the musicians play for. “The audience is different,” Berdahl said thoughtfully. “And no less important. For our young players, especially, it teaches them the impact of sharing their talent with people who are often overlooked. It helps us all step outside of ourselves.”

He recalls childhood memories of visiting the former Crippled Children’s Hospital, meeting a student his age in an iron lung and forming a friendship that lasted years. That connection, he said, still shapes why he returns.

When the final notes fade and applause fills the gym, the magic doesn’t end, it simply moves upstairs. Motorcycle Santa and his elves, members of the Toy Run, wait with carefully chosen gifts for each child. Every present is matched to a child’s wish. Every detail — shopping, wrapping, organizing by dorm and helping open packages — is handled with joy and intention. Santa greets each child by name. Elves kneel beside wheelchairs, snap toy pieces into place, add batteries and discover the fun right alongside the kids. Holiday cookies and lemonade fill tiny hands and draw big smiles.

What unfolds is not just an event — it’s a memory being made in real time. A moment of pure wonder layered on top of hours of music, laughter and connection. Families of the musicians often say it’s an honor to play for LifeScape. Volunteers speak about the privilege of being part of something that feels bigger than any single person. Staff describe the day as one of the brightest of the year.

Sluiter summed it up with clarity: “Music connects us to memories, to traditions, to each other. And when you add friendship, generosity and kindness, something extraordinary happens. The second Saturday of December becomes a day where love prevails.”

As the musicians load their cases, Santa’s elves gather their empty bags and volunteers sweep up cookie crumbs and glittery bits of ribbon, the spirit of the day lingers. In the softness of the lights. In the quiet hum left behind. In the knowledge that next December, those first two tuba notes will rise again, filling the gym with music that can be seen, heard, felt and remembered for a lifetime.