Christmas Pageant

 

I don't know how they get to do it.

How do they get to let loose and play?

I guess it is because they do it so well.

I guess it is because they do it at all.

When was the last time an adult 

was seen wearing a towel on his head, 

pulled back with some Christmas-colored chord?

Or, wearing some bad old bathrobe, 

carrying a crook? Shepherd? Yeah, right!

Those kids,

somehow they wear gold garland better.

They look more angelic. Maybe it's the 

big eyes and innocent looks. Maybe it's 

the uninhibited abandon they have, running 

back and forth from the play to their parents.

"Hugs and kisses, please.

And lots of affirmation." Maybe 

it is because adults are able 

to carve out a place for them to be 

free and silly.

Whatever it is, about ten minutes 

into the thing, every year, the 

whole thing falls apart. You can barely 

hear the reading, the angels and shepherds 

are squirming, the wings and sheep 

are long-gone, wise-men are down 

on the floor - spinning in circles, 

paralyzed donkeys are carried 

from the platform (thank God they are 

two young to be embarrassed).

With all of this confusion it is no wonder the 

Angel said, "Fear not." It is no wonder 

Herod never found the Babe.

It takes this kind of mayhem to produce 

pure innocence. I think we should sponsor 

pageants more often.

17 December 1995