The Scariest Christmas Pageant Ever

Christmas pageants aren't exactly a tradition at my church. Basically while I was growing up nobody had the desire to wrestle a group of kids into angel costumes and then attempt to teach them 5 Christmas carols while keeping them from killing each other. But recently, one such brave soul as emerged from the congregation. Lisa and her husband Jason were my youth group leaders for a couple of years while I was in high school and I've always respected them as people. But even moreso now that Lisa has become the director of the annual children's Christmas pageant.

The first year she went all out. She found a creative script, worked hard on casting, and came out with a moderately entertaining display of cuteness with minimal mishaps. I'm not a huge fan of Christmas pageants myself. I'm sure I'd feel differently if I had a child that was in one, but for the rest of us, well... Let's just say that we don't find little Tommy's portrayal of Joseph quite as riveting. Still the kids are cute for a while, and the second year, while not as high-maintenance as the first, was tolerable. And then there was this year.

It began much as last year's. Lisa's penchant for perfectionism meant she was actually directing the kids with a conducting pattern. Unfortunately this meant that some of the younger ones, instead of making the appropriate hand motions, simply mimicked the conducting pattern as they sang. It was cute. Okay, so I'm sure Lisa was mortified by the technical/sound glitches that kept occurring. Nobody else really cared of course. The kids can't really carry a tune so what does it matter if the music is playing? And they were relatively minor. We were laughing at the awkwardness that naturally accompanies little children on stage. And then Jason ran past the audience with a stethoscope around his neck.

My sister told me that she was wondering if he was supposed to be part of the pageant. A doctor for baby Jesus? That's kind of weird. And why didn't they have one of the kids playing that part? These musings were cut short when three members of the Emergency Medical Service followed Jason back past the audience through the door to the adjacent stairwell. A quick look out the window revealed an ambulance. Okaaaayyyy, now I was freaking out. My initial thought was that one of the older members of the congregation was suffering a heart attack. My sister said she even began to wonder if Mom or Dad were the cause of the ambulance. A quick glance around the room revealed them sitting in the back, but we were still in the dark as to what was going on behind that door. Meanwhile the kids were manfully continuing with their program. The EMTs rushed past again. By this point nobody was really paying attention to the kids. Then Lisa stopped the music and announced that we were going to let them "do their job" and then continue with the next song.

Pastor Mark directed us as we widened the aisle and then the EMTs walked by again pushing a gurney. I looked down at my program and discovered that the next song, which was supposed to be performed with the congregation, was "Good Christian Men Rejoice." Wonderful. Somebody was dying and we were about to break out into a rousing chorus of "Good Christian men rejoiiiice, with heart and soul and voiiiice..." People began to whisper to each other. Some laughed nervously. "This will be a Christmas pageant to remember," my sister commented. "Yeah... but, it's not something that you really want..." I trailed off, wondering who was back there on the stairwell and just how bad it was. I kept waiting for Pastor Mark to make an announcement and let us know what was going on. Maybe he could lead us in a time of prayer. You know "Dear Lord, we would just like to offer up so-and-so to you during this time. We ask for your hand of healing." Etc. etc. But nothing. So there we were, sitting with various morbid thoughts and on tenterhooks to know who it was. Suddenly the stage curtains were drawn. Supposedly to protect the little kids from the gruesome sight that was about to greet the rest of us. We watched as their scare little faces disappeared behind the scarlet folds and I wondered... If this wasn't appropriate for children what the heck were we still doing in the room. Couldn't we go upstairs? Maybe I should shut my eyes... And then...

The great unveiling! Every eye locked on the door as it opened and slowly the EMTs wheeled out... Well, it wouldn't make any difference to you if I said her name or not but I figure she's already been through embarrassing enough an ordeal without having her name mentioned here. It was not an old lady. In fact we were all quite surprised. Except for the choir who, apparently, knew what was going on the whole time... Now, it still wasn't funny. Her arm was in a cast and she obviously wasn't doing too well. And it was awful as we all stared and stared, heads turning, gasps escaping from our lips and audible cries of "oh! it's her!" I was so thoroughly ashamed of myself and yet I couldn't stop watching the absurd procession. What an awful thing for anyone to go through, being wheeled past a large crowd of people.

Only after this shameful exhibition did Pastor Mark explain that the unfortunate victim had fallen down the stairs and collided with the cement wall that was unfortunately at the bottom. She'd broken her arm in several places and hit her head. Gee, that would have been nice to know BEFORE we all gaped at her like codfish or spent 10 minutes of agony over who was supposedly dying. The curtain opened. The music resumed. We all cleared our throats and began to sing...

"Good Christian men rejoiiiice! With heart and soul and voiiice!" I allowed myself to improvise some new lyrics. "Somebody has broke an arm! News! News! She's going to the hospital!" To say the least, it was a pretty absurd Christmas program.