My children are performing in a Christmas pageant this year. That means that for two hours every day this week, I am sitting in a darkened church, watching children process and dance and stand under the vaulted altar, listening to children's voices rise in chorus to fill that vast, stony, starry space.
I search for my daughters' faces amidst the crowd of shepherds and angels. Is the four-year-old keeping up with everyone? There she is, running and flapping her wings, following close behind the older angels—of course she is: she's a girl who never misses a beat. And what about my seven-year-old shepherd? Is she singing along or whispering in a friend's ear? A bit of both... but what can I do? The whispered-to friend always has a smile on her face.
Christmas celebrates the birth of a baby, and there is something so curious and moving about watching these children retell the story. What parent in the church won't be reminded of the miraculous birth of each of their children? What child won't sense the wonder of their very own state of youth and innocence?
Merry, merry Christmas everyone. We hope that Santa's elves are mostly done with their labors and that a joyful, peaceful holiday awaits you all.
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