ED. NOTE: The below piece originally appeared in the Herald’s Dec. 25, 2013, edition.

In spite of my chosen title, this story is really about my mother and her indomitable spirit that will be shown as I continue to write. I am thinking of her especially this Christmas because the Halls are not going to the family farm in Louisiana. Not being in the land of my deep roots causes my thoughts to dwell there even more, but I begin to be way too serious for the anecdote, which follows.

The little pocket-sized church that I grew up in always had a Christmas program, usually some concoction of a manger scene since it was always their understanding of what the season was about. At times, the participants outnumbered the watchers but never mind because it was always performed with great enthusiasm, a little accuracy, with punch and cookies afterwards.

My mother, Emma Opal, also grew up in that church, so those people knew that she had a little bit of the dramatist in her. “Willing” best describes her production qualifications and that won her the job as producer of the Christmas Eve pageant.

There were always plenty of awkward teenage boys with assorted brown bathrobes and a stick to play the shepherds’ parts. Angels were played by little girls in their Christmas best; coat hangers shaped into dangerous halos wrapped in golden Christmas-tree roping. Did not all the Heavenly hosts appear to the shepherds in shiny black shoes and red velvet dresses? Well if that wasn’t the case – don’t tell us folks at Midway Baptist Church because that is just how we like our angels!

Mary, Joseph and the baby were the center of everyone’s admiration. Sometimes, depending on the fertility of the present congregation, there would be a real baby, but the dolls serving as baby Jesus were the best. They were so predictably quiet!

Now the scene is set. Shepherds have marched down the middle aisle and gathered with the fluttery velvet angels at the front. Mary and Joseph (Mary in blue and Joseph in someone’s striped bathrobe with scraps of last years’ sewing project fashioned into an appropriate head wrap) are looking adoringly at their newborn baby boy.

Then the Wise Men begin their journey from the East (to the tune of “We Three Kings”). These are the characters that called for Mother’s creative best. They had to look regal, exotic, dressed to the nines. My mother was very handy with her Singer sewing machine and had many leftover yards of “kingly” fabrics, enough to properly outfit three “razzle dazzle” wise men.

I can’t remember the other two Wise Men from that year but my Uncle Charlie, a car mechanic by trade and avid fisherman by preference, came under my mother’s skillful hands and turned into the Wise Man I will never forget. He was the last to proceed down the aisle and when I turned to see him, one of those unforgivable, irrepressible guffaws broke out that wouldn’t subside until all my breath was gone – Uncle Charley had on Mother’s lamp shade!

Oh, it was wrapped and covered with great care to disguise its nature but to no avail. Uncle Charley was coming from the East with a lampshade on his head! It was glorious but nobody else seemed to know. I whispered to all the kids and Art, “That’s Grandmother’s lamp shade!” The snickers and grins ran up and down our family row and caused me great embarrassment even though I was the offender. I do believe that is to this day my favorite Christmas pageant. Many thanks to my mother whom I love and admire to this day more than words can say.

If you long to see a retelling of my favorite story, visit any of our local churches and enjoy that same delightful retelling this Christmas (see the Christmas Church Services pages in this week’s Herald). Mary, Joseph, baby Jesus and the angels will all be there but Uncle Charley and my mother are presently enjoying the presence of the Real King.

*****

From the Bible: The shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.” So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. From Luke 2 (NIV)