Yesterday afternoon I rehearsed for the annual Christmas pageant at church. My daughter, the director of the program, asked me to do a small speaking part and I was happy to oblige since I've been involved in this annual rite of passage my entire life.
In my earliest memory of being in a pageant I played the angel Gabriel - I must have been about 5 or 6 years old. I loved the beautiful wings I wore and I still remember my lines like it was yesterday. It was a huge moment! I had to come out of a door on the right side of the platform and climb a small step ladder to make my pronouncement from "above" the assembled shepherds "in the field".
In later years I was chagrined to discover that my grandmother, who was always in charge of the Christmas pageant at my church, had this strange notion that Mary had to be blond. (I guess she didn't quite get the geography of Bethlehem...). Since I was not even close to being blond I would never be considered for this role. I was crestfallen. Even in those days I had visions of grandeur and imagined myself a great thespian. How could I not get the lead role in the biggest "show" of the year? Grandma did her best to make me feel important by always giving me a solo to sing, but it just wasn't the same. And, of course my younger sister - my major rival in life - was a blond, which just rubbed salt into the wound because SHE eventually would get to play Mary! (When I was directing Christmas programs in later years I made sure that the Virgin Mary was different every year - blonds, brunettes, redheads - they all had an equal opportunity shot at stardom!)
We have only a few more weeks of rehearsals left and then the magic happens for these children - the costumes and the performance. My grandson is already talking about the angel wings he's going to wear.
In my earliest memory of being in a pageant I played the angel Gabriel - I must have been about 5 or 6 years old. I loved the beautiful wings I wore and I still remember my lines like it was yesterday. It was a huge moment! I had to come out of a door on the right side of the platform and climb a small step ladder to make my pronouncement from "above" the assembled shepherds "in the field".
In later years I was chagrined to discover that my grandmother, who was always in charge of the Christmas pageant at my church, had this strange notion that Mary had to be blond. (I guess she didn't quite get the geography of Bethlehem...). Since I was not even close to being blond I would never be considered for this role. I was crestfallen. Even in those days I had visions of grandeur and imagined myself a great thespian. How could I not get the lead role in the biggest "show" of the year? Grandma did her best to make me feel important by always giving me a solo to sing, but it just wasn't the same. And, of course my younger sister - my major rival in life - was a blond, which just rubbed salt into the wound because SHE eventually would get to play Mary! (When I was directing Christmas programs in later years I made sure that the Virgin Mary was different every year - blonds, brunettes, redheads - they all had an equal opportunity shot at stardom!)
We have only a few more weeks of rehearsals left and then the magic happens for these children - the costumes and the performance. My grandson is already talking about the angel wings he's going to wear.
5 comments:
I never got to be Mary. Grandma always liked you best anyway:)
That's true she did....but I still never got to play Mary! And you said I never write about you in my blog so I figured it was a good opportunity since I was always jealous of your blond hair....
Although it's been almost half a century, I remember I played one of the three wisemen in a Christmas play in the early 60's at the Old Whaler's Church in Sag Harbor where I attended. My big debut in show business was to walk on stage with two other kids and I was to plug in a red light bulb that was covered with wood, to make it look like we were around a campfire. Unfortunately it was dark and I couldn't find the outlet to plug in the bulb. So we had to fake it, wet wood you know. So much for show business. The following year I played a soldier in the Nutcracker Suite without any further problems. Really great times to look back on!
What a great story - thank you for sharing it!
Oh - and Karen - she only liked me best because I was such a perfect child....
And maybe there is still hope for teh Mary thing. I'm sure you could still play the virginal teenager.
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