Star Light, Star Bright: My Christmas Pageant Plight

Years ago, I started attending a little chapel just a few doors down the street from my house. There was something satisfyingly old school about knowing it was time to walk over on a Sunday morning when I heard them ringing the bell in the tower.

The first time I went, it just happened to be the first Sunday in December and I was immediately asked if I wanted to be in the upcoming Christmas pageant. I assured them I did not. Mine was an emphatic and hard no, so imagine my surprise the following summer when the woman who organized, wrote, and directed the event every year approached me and said, “I’ve been thinking about you, and I think you should be the star in this year's pageant.” I was surprised she was even thinking about it in the summer, and more surprised she was seeing some inner, latent acting talent in me that I was unaware of. I was dubious, but flattery will get you everywhere with me, and to my astonishment, I heard myself agreeing to it.

When the following December rolled around, I had no idea what to expect at the big meeting to reveal the script she’d written. I was curious and nervous about what I’d gotten myself into. Would I be up to the task? Could I remember all my lines? Project my voice? Was I going to have to sing? I mean I was going to be carrying the show as the star! Cautiously, tentatively, I opened the packet. I had to suppress my laughter at my ridiculous self. I wasn’t the star of the show, I was literally a star. I was the star of Bethlehem, with maybe 2 lines.

I still managed to feel a little jittery heading into our practice session, but once we started it turned to all-out fear. I discovered I was supposed to be holding a heavy metal star, and in order to get it as high as possible, it had been attached with rope to the end of a long, thin pole. Basically, I was to hold a mace for the entire performance. An unwieldy and skull-crushing mace.

Afterward, I told a friend how scared I had been about accidentally knocking people into unconsciousness. She just looked at me and said "You could have so easily and tragically transitioned into playing the Angel of Death." Insight like that is why she’s my friend, and this experience is why I’m back to being an audience member, but I clap with newfound appreciation.