Le mieux blog dans le monde!

I have fond childhood memories of participating in the family presentation of the nativity for my father on Christmas Eve. My mom assigned each kid a part and we'd try to memorize our lines and hunt down props and pieces for our costumes (usually consisting of bath robes, towels, belts, and sheets or blankets). My Cabbage Patch doll Gus was always baby Jesus. We'd perform our lines and sing the appropriate songs. Once we visited Grandma and relatives in California for Christmas. The family tradition traveled with us and incorporated a couple of uncles who added the use of a shower cap to the costume repertoire.

These were happy experiences. The tradition has ended and the only nativity I've experienced the past 15 years are performances done at ward Christmas parties or video clips. Usually these performances are more professional than the ones we performed as kids, which means the cast took themselves very seriously and sometimes the adaptations went on and on and on and on, while overdoing the "spiritual" experience.

Well, that is until last night.

Last night I attended my ward's performance of the nativity at a real barn that an older couple in town loans out for performances such as the nativity. It is a rustic barn that has been wired with lights. Hay was piled up like bleachers on one side of the barn for people to sit on (at the risk of their precious lives). On the opposite side of the barn was the "stage" where benches were set out for the choir and a manager for baby Jesus.

Much to my delight there were real life chickens and a calf inside. Outside of horses, and sheep and goats at the petting zoo this was the closest I can remember being to farm animals, although I've lived in more rural cities (yes, this is possible in Idaho and Utah) for a total of 11 years. In these places it is not unusual to be driving through what appears to be an urban neighborhood and pass a field with houses on every side holding horses or hear a cow lowing from the distance. Following the example of a teen, I petted the calf (J would be jealous--or maybe terrified!) and was surprised at how coarse his/her fur was. I was just as tempted as the little kids to catch a chicken but refrained out of fear of being pecked. For me, a city girl, it was a cultural experience.

I arrived early while some of the cast were getting dressed for their parts. As the audience arrived via hay rides (I came straight from work and missed the hay ride), dust and hay was kicked up (and boy am I feeling it in my sinuses this morning). People came with their blankets, and luckily a happy couple shared with me since I was expecting a heated barn. The kids were excited about the animals and wanted to climb to the top of the hay.

Everyone settled and the production began. My experience with ward parties in the past and thus my stereotype of ward activities is that those in charge are pretty darn Martha Stewartesque. I expected this activity to be beyond Martha Stewart since I'm in the Mormon cultural center of the world. I was pleasantly and humorously surprised.

It was obvious no rehearsal had taken place. In fact, the nativity my family performed back in the day was more professional than this one. The narrator had to share his copy of the script with the angel Gabriel, who seemed to lose his place, and whisper Mary's lines to her from three feet away. Baby Jesus was a pile of blankets swaddled together and Joseph seemed more nurturing than Mary, who kept zoning out. The person working the lighting tried to spotlight the characters by turning the overhead lights on and off, but had to turn on and off every single light in the barn each time to find the right ones. I outright laughed in inappropriate places, as did our old bishop (phew!), and the gal I sat with kept commenting on how they should have rehearsed at least once.

It was a funny experience, animals included, but it was a worthwhile experience and I learned a lot about the talents of my ward members. There was charity present. As mentioned before, a couple shared their warm, thick blanket with me. My work schedule doesn't allow me to attend most ward activities, so outside the 11 year old kids I teach I haven't gotten to know very many people. My ward members are very friendly. There is musical talent that I didn't know about. The three kings sang "We Three Kings" in perfect harmony and the sister who sang "O Holy Night" a capella hit every note perfectly--it was amazing! The teens and children of the ward participated as characters in the play or as members of the choir and often out-shined the adults as they delved deeper into their roles. It was fun to see the support and enthusiasm (or lack thereof) of the people who volunteered to participate.

Overall it was a memorable experience and one I'll hold in my heart for many years to come. This time of year I look for opportunities to help me feel the true Christmas spirit. I hope we can all remember that outside the shopping and gift giving, parties, and merrymaking, that there once lived a man who sacrificed all he to help mankind heal from physical and spiritual ailments. A man who's birth we celebrate this season. And even if you don't believe this man ever lived or did the things attributed to him, the spirit of giving can extend outside our circle to those in need.

Happy holidays!