A taste of Heaven swept the acoustic expanse of a neighborhood church in Marine Park on the evening of Nov. 29 as the swooning sounds of idyllic harp transfixed the listeners, and the playful, cajoling tone of the oboe pranced along in tune like a mischievous youth, seeking to help them rediscover a long-lost sense of carefree bliss.

The large, ornamented hall was at once alive and mercifully subdued as two particularly talented musicians entertained more than 100 attendees, all for free.

Michael Fontana, the director of Music Ministries and the organist at Good Shepherd Church, invites top-notch, classically trained musical performers to participate in this 11-week-long event, beginning in October and ending in the middle of December.

It began modestly in 1995, with only three or four annual concerts, one of which featured the oboist’s erstwhile group, Pastiche. Fontana still keeps the program as a sentimental memento.

“He’s been such a bad boy lately,” said a slight woman in gentle anguish as she reached for her slim, black cat, who quickly ran for the door to greet customers.

“Sasha went exploring last night and I almost had a heart attack. I had neighbors looking for him,” she added fondly in her native Russian, stroking the lithe feline affectionately.

Curiosity isn’t confined to the cat in Flowers Symphony, a floral shop in Mill Basin, for it contains some of the most fascinating pieces of authentic memorabilia in the neighborhood, if not the entire borough.

The ambiance in Anna Tabachnikova’s shop is that of a very active museum. She has photographs; Soviet New Year ornaments; pottery; newspapers; magazines; toys; a record player and a phonograph player, all of which are authentic relics of particularly interesting times in history.

Can you imagine paying $30 for a week’s supply of quality meals for four?

“Put me in a time machine and I’ll go back to 1950,” you’ll probably say.

Actually, all you have to do is go to 2114 Mermaid Avenue in Coney Island. For several days each month, the Lighthouse Mission holds a food co-op, representing the south Brooklyn branch of Project Angel Food, an organization founded by Marianne Williamson to provide good food at affordable prices. The Coney Island branch has been open since January.

A young man walks determinedly along a sadly dilapidated basement of a Bay Ridge church. His manner is undeniably cocky, and the sneer marring his handsome face only adds to the moment’s inherent intrigue. His golden hair nearly luminescent in the room’s artificial light, he almost bears the presence of an angel.

Ironically, this vibrant lad is auditioning to play the devil in the Narrows Community Theater’s fall musical, “Damn Yankees.”

In existence for nearly four decades, Narrows owes its humble beginnings to a myriad of holy buildings in the oceanfront neighborhood and – for quite a few years until 9/11 – the Fort Hamilton Army Base.

“Actually, we played wherever we could get space. Our problem has always been a home,” said Mickey Sullivan, a member of the Narrows board since its inception. “Over the years, we have lost thousands and thousands of dollars in props. We had to leave them – we had no place to store them.”

A shabbily-clad waif of a woman moves defiantly for several paces – each step surging with determination. The tail of her outdated, though strangely elegant dress trails behind her as though a silent and decidedly unrefined handmaiden. She cunningly approaches, as the object of her ire ascends the makeshift stairs, before releasing the typhoon of emotions within: “Just you wait, ‘Enry ‘Iggins! Just you wait!”

Wait – is that sensational siren your next-door neighbor? Who would have thought?

Ah, Community Theater. The inimitable inflection of spoken performance by a vessel atop a rickety stage, laughing and cajoling an unwary interlocutor for a decidedly dastardly act – only rivaled by the song and dance concoction the season following, embracing sights and sounds generally foreign to the neighborhood at large.