Our church has two Masses on Christmas Eve--4:00 and 6:00. Traditionally we've gone to the later one, but this year the kids had left on a road trip and were returning to the house mid-evening, so Hubby Tony and I decided to go at 4.
I knew the Mass was very popular. On a normal Sunday we allow 15 minutes to get to church. Today we doubled that, and still didn't get a seat. Tony and I stood immediately behind the last pew in the center right section. By the time the priest walked down the aisle there were people standing six and seven deep along the back wall, and lines snaked down the side aisles. Right before Mass started a seat opened up immediately in front of me and I grabbed it. Tony could have squeezed in, too, but he chose to continue standing.
During the opening hymn I observed the people in the pew in front of me, and decided it held several generations of one family. There was an older woman (the matriarch) in the center of the group, surrounded by the family groups of her children, their spouses, and grandchildren ranging in age from teens to babies. The youngest baby was being passed up and down the row, but she eventually ended up directly in front of me; I couldn't help but smile at her until I realized I was paying more attention to her than I was to the sermon and stopped.
Later, while the collection was being taken, most of the people in front of me were singing. However, one of the adult children (who looked to be about my age) was holding an extended conversation with his spouse. After several minutes, his mom turned his way and gave him a withering stare. At first he didn't notice, but when the stare continued she got his attention; he stopped talking and grabbed a hymnal.