It’s that time of year again when folks are spread too thin.
So many events pull at them—school programs, shopping, get-togethers, and
parties. For many, Christmas pageants or performances by children are staples
for a complete holiday season. I remember a long time ago when Jim and I were
involved those productions.
Beaver Ridge United Methodist Church always put on a big
children’s program at Christmas. Two women, Mrs. Kirkland and Mrs, Marr, worked
for weeks to put the show together. Children met
weekly to practice the songs for
the program. The women found patience with squirming children who would have
much rather been expending after-school energy playing touch football or riding
bikes.
Mother worked to produce capes for the children. They looked
like the ones that are wrapped around the shoulders of Christmas statues of
carolers. She was a stay-at-home mother back until we started school and spent
hours at the sewing machine making more capes to accommodate growing numbers of
children who would perform.
On Sunday morning, we children faced a combination of
excitement and nervousness. Standing in front of a packed church brought about
butterflies, and some kids decided at the last minute that they wanted no part
of the program. They burst into tears, and after efforts to comfort them
failed, someone hustled them off to parents.
Most of the songs were familiar carols of the season. We
stood stick straight and kept our eyes fixed upon Mrs. Kirkland, who led us in
song. Moms and dads and grandparents oohed and aahed as smiles spread across
their faces. The entire thing seemed to have lasted for hours, but the truth is
that no more than twenty minutes were devoted to the program.
Jim and I, on occasion, sang solo parts. I’m not sure that
we sang that well, but we were volunteered, and folks must have thought a set
of twins singing was cute. As we grew older, we joined Mike Guinn in special
songs. One I remember best was our singing “We Three Kings.” Nerves kicked in
and voices choked as we stood in front of the congregation and performed. Yes,
we made it, but all three of us stood there red faced and anxious.
Some of the best friends I ever had were included in that
children’s choir. In addition to Mike Guinn, Jimmy Love and Mike Hill were
there. All the boys fell over themselves as they tried to gain the favor of
girls like Randy Butler and Nancy Marshall. As it turned out, all of us
attended high school at Karns and remained friends, at least until graduation.
My children participated in Christmas programs at First
Christian Church. I remember Uncle Tim sitting with a group of little ones as
he related the Christmas story. The kids sang, hung christmons on the tree, and
placed greenery throughout the church. My pride gushed as they completed their
parts and as the program ushered in the Christmas season for the congregation
and our family.
I miss the times when I was young and enjoyed participating
in those programs. These days, my voice is just about gone, and I struggle to
sing without it cracking. I miss being with my twin brother much of the time
and long for family members who have passed. I would love to go back for one
Sunday to watch my own children sing and read during a Christmas service. Too,
I miss the friends from Beaver Ridge. I’ve not seen most of them in too many
years.
I’ll listen to children sing again this year, and maybe I’ll
even bribe my grandson Madden to sing “Away in a Manger” or “Silent Night.” The
Christmas spirit stirs within me when I just begin thinking about those long
ago times and the songs that we sang. Even this many years later, the child in
me sometimes tries to sneak out. It feels good.