Under the colossal canopy of a 75-foot Norway spruce, its boughs heavy with the promise of 50,000 twinkling LEDs and a Swarovski star gleaming like a frozen supernova, New York’s Rockefeller Center transformed into a winter wonderland on December 3, 2025. The 93rd annual Christmas Tree Lighting ceremony, a midtown Manhattan ritual as steadfast as the ball drop it precedes, unfolded live on NBC and Peacock at 8 p.m. ET, drawing a plaza packed with 10,000 bundled spectators and millions more glued to screens from coast to coast. Hosted by country colossus Reba McEntire, the two-hour extravaganza was a kaleidoscope of carols and choreography, from the Radio City Rockettes’ century-celebrating high-kicks to a roster of A-listers belting holiday hits amid swirling faux snow. But amid the brass fanfares and confetti cannons, one moment shimmered brighter than the tree itself: a duet between McEntire and Broadway belter Kristin Chenoweth, two Oklahoma natives whose voices intertwined like tinsel on a garland, turning “Silver Bells” into a seasonal sermon of sparkle and soul. Dressed in ethereal white ensembles—McEntire in a fur-trimmed gown that evoked a snow queen’s elegance, Chenoweth in a shimmering sheath that caught the lights like captured fireflies—the pair’s performance wasn’t just a highlight; it was the holiday’s heartstring-plucker, a flawless fusion of twang and trill that left the crowd breathless and the internet ablaze. “Reba and Kristin Chenoweth perform the perfect holiday duet. ✨ Christmas in Rockefeller Center,” trended worldwide within minutes, fans flooding feeds with clips of their harmonious hush, proving once more that the best gifts come wrapped in vocal velvet and shared roots.

The Rockefeller Center Tree Lighting has long been more than a mere illumination—it’s a luminous ledger of American festivity, a Depression-era tradition born in 1931 when a humble 20-foot balsam fir, strung with 700 bulbs, lifted spirits for Radio City Music Hall’s skeleton crew. Nearly a century later, the spectacle has swollen into a global gala: this year’s spruce, sourced from a family farm in New York’s Hudson Valley, arrived via flatbed procession on November 9, its trunk a 12-ton testament to nature’s grandeur, adorned with ornaments crafted by local artisans and illuminated by energy-efficient LEDs that blaze 24/7 until the New Year’s Eve countdown claims the spotlight. Produced by the wizards at Done + Dusted, the broadcast weaves spectacle with sentiment—live from the plaza’s ice rink, where skaters glide like graceful ghosts, to the Channel Gardens’ golden Prometheus statue, frozen mid-flame in eternal optimism. Reba McEntire’s debut as host infused the evening with her signature Oklahoma warmth, a first for the country icon who’s headlined the CMAs 17 times but never helmed this holiday helm. Joined by TODAY anchors Savannah Guthrie, Craig Melvin, and Al Roker— the trio’s banter a bubbly counterpoint to Reba’s twangy tales— the lineup was a yuletide who’s-who: Michael Bublé’s velvety “Holly Jolly Christmas,” Gwen Stefani’s fizzy “Shake the Snow Globe,” Marc Anthony’s salsa-spiced “Feliz Navidad,” Halle Bailey’s ethereal “O Holy Night,” Laufey’s jazzy “Winter Wonderland,” Brad Paisley’s guitar-laced “Let It Snow,” Carly Pearce’s twang-tinged “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home),” New Edition’s R&B remix of “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town,” and the Rockettes’ precision parade marking their 100th anniversary with toy-soldier stomps and LED-lit splendor. Yet, as the Swarovski star ascended at 10 p.m.—a crystalline comet weighing as much as a grand piano, refracting light into a 970-faceted frenzy—it was Reba and Kristin’s “Silver Bells” that lingered like the afterglow of a hearth fire, their voices a velvet vow that the season’s true magic lies in harmony, not height.

What elevated their duet from delightful diversion to downright divine was the alchemy of their shared heritage—a sonic sisterhood forged in the red dirt of Oklahoma, where wide skies breed big voices and humble hearts harbor Broadway dreams. Reba McEntire, the 70-year-old trailblazer whose career spans rodeo ribbons to Grammy gold, opened the show with a roof-raising “Run Rudolph Run,” her alto a reindeer on rocket fuel, backed by The Roots’ funky backbeat that had the plaza pulsing like a heartbeat. Dressed in emerald velvet that nodded to her “Fancy” flair, she emceed with effortless élan, her quips (“This tree’s so tall, even Santa needs a ladder!”) drawing roars from the bundled throng. But when she welcomed Chenoweth— the 4’11” dynamo whose soprano could shatter crystal— the energy shifted from exuberant to exquisite. Chenoweth, 57 and still sparkling like the star she’d once been on Wicked‘s Elphaba opposite Idina Menzel, had already dazzled solo with a pint-sized powerhouse take on The Carpenters’ “Merry Christmas, Darling,” her voice a harp-string trill that pierced the chill like sunlight through frost. Hailing from Broken Arrow, just a stone’s throw from Reba’s McAlester roots, Kristin grew up idolizing the country queen—singing “The Greatest Man I Never Knew” in school talent shows, dreaming of the day their paths would twirl together on a stage bigger than the Sooner State.

Their “Silver Bells” was a masterclass in contrast and confluence: the song, Irving Berlin’s 1950 chestnut of urban enchantment (“City sidewalks, busy sidewalks, dressed in holiday style”), unfurled under a canopy of faux flurries, the duo’s voices weaving like silver threads through the night. Reba anchored the verses with her rich, resonant twang—a warm contralto that wrapped the lyrics in the comfort of a cashmere scarf, her phrasing drawing out the wonder of “In the air there’s a feeling of Christmas.” Chenoweth soared on the chorus, her crystalline soprano cascading like champagne bubbles, hitting high notes that danced above the din without a hint of strain, her diminutive frame belying a vocal vault that could fill the Met. Together, they traded lines like longtime confidantes—Reba’s grounded glow lifting Kristin’s ethereal flight, their harmonies on “Silver bells, silver bells” swelling to a silvery shimmer that hushed the 10,000-strong crowd into reverent silence. Visually, it was vignette perfection: both in winter-white wonder—Reba’s gown a fur-fringed cascade embroidered with snowflake sequins, Kristin’s a sleek sheath with crystal-embellished sleeves that caught the spotlights like prisms—standing side-by-side under the unlit tree, microphones gloved in white, the plaza’s golden glow framing them like a Renaissance portrait of joy. A subtle sway, a shared glance mid-chorus—Reba’s wink prompting Kristin’s giggle—and the performance transcended technique, becoming a testament to tenacity: two women who’d conquered stages from the Opry circle to Broadway’s Great White Way, their voices a bridge across generations and genres.

The backstory to this Oklahoma-on-the-Hudson harmony is a tapestry of serendipity and spotlight synergy, threads woven from shared state pride and serendipitous timing. Chenoweth, discovered at age 3 warbling hymns in her Baptist church, parlayed an Oklahoma City University scholarship into a Tony-winning turn as Sally Brown in You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown (1999), her pint-sized pipes propelling her to Wicked‘s Glinda and Pushing Daisies‘ Olive Snook. Reba, the rodeo-raised rebel who’d wrangled steers before microphones, had long been Kristin’s north star—inviting her to guest on Reba in 2003, where their “Why Do We Want What We Ain’t Got?” duet sparked a mentorship that bloomed into mutual admiration. “Reba’s the reason I believed a country girl could conquer Broadway,” Chenoweth gushed in a pre-event People profile, her eyes misting over memories of Reba’s 2001 Annie Get Your Gun revival, where the duo bonded backstage over brisket and belt-outs. For the Tree Lighting, their pairing was producer gold: NBC execs, eyeing the Rockettes’ centennial tie-in, pitched the duet as a “home-state hoedown,” rehearsals held in a Midtown studio where Reba’s twang met Kristin’s trill over eggnog and etudes. “We Oklahoma girls know how to kick it up,” Reba quipped during a soundcheck, her high-kick homage to the troupe drawing cheers. The result? A performance that clocked 15 million live views, spiking to 40 million by morning as clips cascaded across TikTok and X, fans dueting the chorus with kitchen mixers as makeshift bells.

Social media’s sleigh ride post-duet was a blizzard of bliss: #RebaKristinDuet trended globally, amassing 2.5 million mentions by midnight, with videos of their harmonious hush garnering 30 million views on NBC’s YouTube channel alone. “Oklahoma’s finest just made Christmas magical—those voices together? Pure silver,” one viral tweet declared, liked by 150k users, while another: “Reba’s warmth + Kristin’s sparkle = the holiday hug we needed. ✨” Reddit’s r/countrymusic subreddit erupted in a 10k-upvote thread titled “Reba & Chenoweth’s ‘Silver Bells’ is the Duet of the Decade,” fans dissecting the emotional arc: “Reba grounds it, Kristin lifts it—it’s like watching faith take flight.” Even Broadway Buzz forums lit up, with Wicked superfans hailing it as “Glinda meets the Queen of Country,” petitions circulating for a full holiday EP. The performance’s ripple reached radio waves: SiriusXM’s The Highway looped a fan-recorded snippet, DJ Storme Warren declaring, “If this ain’t the sound of the season, I don’t know mistletoe from manure.” For the duo, it was personal poetry: Reba, fresh from Happy’s Place‘s Season 1 wrap (her bar-sitcom revival earning Emmys buzz), channeled the joy of her blended family holidays with Blake Shelton; Chenoweth, post her Hacks Season 4 arc as a diva mentor, infused it with the whimsy of her own yuletide traditions—baking pecan pies in her Broken Arrow bungalow, now a pied-à-terre pitstop between coasts.

As the Swarovski star crested and the tree blazed to life—its LEDs a luminous lattice against the Manhattan skyline—the duet’s echo lingered like the last note of a carol. Reba and Kristin, arms linked in a post-performance huddle, waved to the roaring crowd, their smiles a shared sunrise. “From Oklahoma dirt to Rockefeller dazzle,” Reba murmured to Kristin amid the confetti, her twang thick with thanks. In a holiday landscape cluttered with commercial jingles and canned cheer, their “Silver Bells” rang true—a perfect pairing of pipes and provenance, reminding us that the season’s sweetest songs are sung in solidarity. As the plaza pulsed with post-lighting parades and the anchors signed off with toasts to tomorrow, one truth twinkled eternal: in Reba and Kristin’s harmony, Christmas found its voice—warm, wondrous, and wholly unforgettable. Tune in to the encore airings on NBC, or stream on Peacock; some magic, once shaken loose, settles in the soul forever.