The church itself is like a little chapel, small, pews too close together and too close to the pulpit, and a narrow isle that seemed to gather us close to one another. There is a tiny stage, just large enough for a good sized pulpit and two small one-man pews.
This particular year, I wanted
to involve the children in a Christmas pageant and I did not let the facilities
deter me. The manger scene would be directly in front of the pulpit. There was
room for the shepherds’ camp fire in front of the pews on the right. Three wise
men would make their entrance on the left.
Bath robes were gathered for the
wise men and Joseph. The striped towels in my linen closet worked nicely for
the tiny shepherds. I just pinned two towels together on one end, slipped the towels over the little tow heads and
secured them around the waist with a cord or rope. Sheets, folded, wrapped, and
draped outfitted the angels and Mary. I ironed metal coat hangers, hooks
removed, between sheets of wax paper to make wings for the angels. Sticks,
straw, and hay were gathered and we were all ready except for the manger.
The manger was easily
constructed. Crude limbs and weathered boards were hurriedly tacked together.
Straw and a blanket were added and it made a rather impressive manger, howbeit
rather unstable.
Using a doll to play the part of Baby Jesus, had never appealed to me. A real baby would be
ideal but Mary and Joseph were much too young to be trusted with a baby and the
manger was not quite sturdy enough. Then I had the idea of placing a light in
the manger to represent Jesus. "How appropriate.” I thought. “Jesus, the light of the world.”
So it was! A light bulb would
represent the light that came in the time of great darkness. I placed it in a
small baking pan so as not to touch the straw or blanket. Can’t be too careful.
Now we were ready to begin. Miniature
players took their places as an adult read the script, pausing for the cast to
take their places or to sing old familiar carols.
Gary, our son, was Joseph,
dressed in his dad’s heavy bath robe. His job was easy, just kneel and bow his
head over the manger. The light, (Baby Jesus) shinning on his face, was a
beautiful sight. Our daughter, Julie, was Mary. She sat beside the manger, radiant
and pure in her blue sheet and white tablecloth head dress.
I crouched behind the pulpit
directing the spot light, dimming the lights here or there, igniting the
shepherds’ campfire and bringing a suspended star to life. All was going well
until I heard a commotion in front of the pulpit, in the barn so to speak. I
peeked from behind the pulpit and saw Joseph in all his splendor, lying on the
front pew. The shepherds had hurriedly retreated back to the campfire and the
wise men thought it wise to back away from the prostrate Joseph, leaving behind
the carefully wrapped gifts.
Of course, I left my position
from behind the pulpit to check on Joseph to discover that Mary was now
standing; (not in the script) and the manger was flat on the floor; straw
scattered; Baby Jesus was nowhere to be seen; and a light bulb still glowing was wobbling back and forth where the wise men
should have been. The warm robe and the heat from the symbol of Baby Jesus was
just too much for Joseph. He had fainted and fell face first into the manger,
sending it and its contents flying.
How we recovered, I’m not sure.
Mercifully, we were near the end. The children were gathered together to finish
the carols as Joseph recovered.
I often ask myself, “What good
have I done these fifty plus years as an assistant in the ministry?”
