Sheila's Dribs 'n Drabs

“Frank’s the sensible one.” “He’s what?” asked Mom. “Frank’s in sense.” “Oh, right.” “So Frankie’s the king.” “Frank who?” “David’s big brother Frank.” “Gone to college I think.” “And David’s washing socks.” “David’s what?” “He’s a shepherd, in the play” “Okay.” “He washes socks by night you see. And Jeremy’s the flea.” “What flea?” “The one that Joseph took.” “Joseph did what?” “He took his wife and son and flea to Egypt.” “Not sure about that.” “But I don’t know why.” “You don’t know what?” “A flea would’ve made them scratch I think.” And imagining it was making Mommy itch.

“Take your places.” The children formed into lines, smallest angels in front and the tallest one at back. Teachers straightened haloes, untangled wings, and whispered words of wise encouragement: “Remember to sing. Remember; walk slowly now.” Two heavenly lines snaked down the aisle, dissolving to pattering feet that ran while voices brightly sang. “Careful.” They scrambled on pulpit steps, shuffling front to back, till the tallest angel was ready to speak. The audience waited with bated breath. The seraph raised her eyes and opened her mouth, then loudly pronounced: “Please Miss, one of the angels just peed in the pulpit!”

David didn’t want to be a shepherd. “Why not?” “’Cause Daniel’s a sheep; he says he’ll bite me.” David didn’t want to be a king. “Why not?” “’Cause Patrick says the presents weigh too much.” He didn’t want to be an angel because they wore dresses. Or a camel or a sheep or a donkey because they smell. “So what will you be?” “A squirrel, except I can’t see properly through the eye-holes in my mask.” David’s sister said that was fine because Jesus probably couldn’t see all that well when he was being a baby. “Emily's doll's the baby.”

“Why do shepherds wash their socks by night? Wouldn’t they see better in the day?” Alice/Mary was holding her doll upside down, checking for shoes, while Joseph tugged at his gown. Mrs. Adams had heard it all before. “Now, children; get in line.” “But if it’s silent night, why are we singing?” “No talking children.” “But Miss. Did they have reindeer in the stable?” She ushered her caroling calamity onto the stage. Dolly Jesus, shoeless and sockless, rolled down the steps, but a “free king” rescued him. The angel’s halo got stuck on the elephant’s nose. “Did they have elephants?”