And So It Begins…(Part II)

In case you haven’t read part one of this
saga, you may want to go back and check it out (if for no other reason than to
set the stage for this amazing ride). If you haven’t got the time, let me just
say, “When last we saw our heroes (my lovely Bride and I), they were attending our
granddaughter’s day-school Christmas program.”





As I mentioned last time, the program was
billed as a musical. I’ll take their word for it. Between the crying babies,
overexuberant parents, and complaining grandparents, I couldn’t hear anything
that was happening up front. The presenters seemed to be in complete control of
their faculties. The audience was an entirely different story, however. The
word, “chaos,” comes to mind.





The Grand Finale




When we got to the point of the grand finale,
a miracle occurred. First of all, I discovered it was the grand finale only
because all entertainment ceased after it ended—all entertainment, that is,
aside from watching the audience—which, alone, was worth the price of admission
($0.00). Said miracle happened when a crease in the crowd opened up before me.
It was like God parting the Red Sea for the Hebrews. And there was my teeny
Gracie in all her mercurial splendor.





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Actually, she wasn’t mercurial at all (I just like using that word). She was, in fact, just the opposite. She had a blank look on her expressionless face that I could read from 100 feet away. She was thinking, WTB! (For all you texting illiterates, that means, “What the blazes?”We ARE a Christian family after all.)





For the climax of the musical, they handed
Gracie (and all the other kids) a set of jingle bells. At that point, she
became animated enough to move her right arm. I’ll let you guess what song they
were performing. It was an amazing end to an even more amazing revue.





Still, we weren’t finished. As in every good theatrical endeavor, the director was presented with a token of ourappreciation for a job well done. The pastor rose to thank her and grabbed ascrub bucket from behind a table that was stage rear center (if there had beena stage). In the bucket was a beautiful bouquet of flowers. As he moved in herdirection, I began to think to myself, “NO, don’t do it!” But he did. He handedher the flowers, bucket and all. She had the wherewithal to remove the flowers,set the bucket aside, and thank everyone for attending.





It Was His Duty




I assumed at this point that it was all over
but the shouting (which had been continual). But no… The pastor felt it his
duty to pray. I know this because I have been in his shoes. To his credit, he
was able to shout out a fine prayer over the din of the spectators, and all was
well.





At some point, the program actually ended. I
could tell this because the few adults who weren’t already standing took to
their feet. Our oldest daughter was seated behind me, and as I turned around,
she smiled and said, “And so it begins…” I immediately realized what she meant
and did some quick calculations in my head. If I live long enough, I’ll
probably have about fifteen more of these to attend over the years.





Oddly enough, I’m looking forward to it.





[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]


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Published on December 18, 2018 16:30
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