The Best Christmas Pageant Ever.

Tis the season for transformation and redemption stories.  The Hallmark channel offers us endless movies about empty hearted souls, who, stumbling upon just the right person at the right time do an about face and lights up the world with goodness.  Those of us who believe that the will always tends toward the good accepts these (sorry) repetitive and mundane storylines because we know that deep down, everyone is really good at heart.

Of course, the most famous bad-to-good holiday story is Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol. That book, although masterfully written, was never high on my Christmas reading list.  Yes, Scrooge is a fine, likeable fellow by the last twenty pages, but the rest of the story is filled with ghosts, cemeteries, sick children, starvation thieving and all around nastiness. so joyful.   The only character with any guts is Mrs. Cratchit and I just know that if she could, she would march into Scrooge's office, throw some coal on the fire,  give the boss a verbal lashing, and tell her husband to grow q pair and quit being such a wimp.  

For a change of pace and a few laughs - which we all can use right about now - take a look at the Herdsman kids in the Best Christmas Pageant Ever.  These kids smoke, they cuss, they drink wine, and they bully anyone in their way.  Really scary people.  They don't attend church, but when they hear that snacks are served at Sunday school, they are in.  Threats and chaos ensue and the Herdmans worm their way into the lead rolls in the annual Christmas pageant.  

On stage, they are clumsy, uncomfortable, unprepared, and totally engaging.  Instead of traditional gifts, they bring Baby Jesus the ham the church charity group has provided for their family dinner.  The audience, at first, stunned and quite put-off by the non-traditional interpretation, eventually witnesses wonderful warmth, recognition, and acceptance on the Herdmans' faces.  A simple Christmas miracle has occurred with not a single ghost floating about.  

OK...,here's a side trip for anyone wanting to read beyond the book chatter. Years ago, when Jim and Mary Mellberg staged their lush production of A Christmas Carol at the Capitol Civic Centre, I played Mrs. Cratchit - probably because the costume fit me.  The Cratchits were a poor, but happy family.  Father, Bob, was hard working, and mom was pretty outspoken when it came to his boss, Ebenezer Scrooge.  In this production, the family sang together every night at supper.  We called them the Molly Cratchit Singers.  I do not sing - again, I got the part because the dress fit, not because I can carry a tune.  Not only did we sing together, mama C. had a solo.  At some point we were tortured with the dreaded solo rehearsal. We had to face the rest of the cast and deliver our solo full voiced and in character.  We had two nasty people in the cast who, each year, would maneuver themselves into direct eye contact with me, and they would smirk at me.  Our musical director knew this was happening and gave me little winks and nods along the way but one year, he decided to take a different approach.  Before I started, he leaned over and quietly said "Just wait."  After all the solos were done, we practiced the group songs.  He began by saying "We have some issues to clean up this year, so, if I look at you, please stop singing.  It means you are off key and ruining the piece." Less than one line in, he stared those two down, and continued to stare them down the rest of the night.  He wrapped up rehearsal saying " We are too close to opening night to fine tune things, so if I caught your eye tonight, please don't sing.,  Just lip sync."  And you know what, the cast applauded.  I feel Scroogy telling you that story.  I will work on transformation and redemption this week...but no singing.