I don’t think it’s possible to capture the Spirit of Christmas any better than a child’s Christmas play!
Our morning started off a *little* rocky. Clare wanted to wear her purple outfit (you know, the one she wants to wear EVERY day because purple is her favorite color). I gently suggested she save the purplicious outfit for after school and put on her Christmas shirt because it was play day.
Wrong. Thing. To. Say.
We’re lucky we got out the door with her in said shirt. I comprised and let her wear the pink boots that didn’t match. Scott and I were both fresh out of patience. As it turns out, it didn’t really matter what she wore because the 4’s wore costumes. Shoot, I forgot. When will I learn? Fifth child, maybe. It wasn’t much better when we arrived at school. My normally happy go-lucky, see ya later Mom, kid was nowhere to be seen. Clare was glued to my leg and screaming, “No mommy, NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Her teacher and I peeled her off my leg and I walked out hearing her scream.
Great, I thought. I’ve ruined the entire play for her because I insisted she wear that d##n shirt. God does extend grace to frazzled parents because when she walked into the sanctuary 15 minutes later she was all smiles and giggles. All was forgiven. And I made a mental note to remember that life lesson.
The kids were adorable. Some were screaming their heads off. Mary was blowing kisses to the crowd. Parents took on the role of papparazzi. It was loud. It was funny. God was most certainly in that room. At one point, I looked around the sanctuary and couldn’t help but see the love. Everywhere you looked people were grinning ear to ear, hugging their spouse and giggling under their breath. What a sight. Clare delivered her line wonderfully, “Listen! The angels are singing!” she said.
Yes they were. Happy birthday, Jesus!