“So it was, that while they were there, the days were completed for her to be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn Son, and wrapped Him in swaddling clothes, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.” Luke 2:4-7. (NKJV).
"Places everyone." Susan, the new choir director, checked the four and five-year-olds standing in their places. "Y'all look great," she whispered.
"Showtime!" Please let this Christmas pageant be memorable.
The angel choir stood on the risers and sang with gusto. Proud parents smiled, nudged one another. The narrator kept the story flowing as the pageant unfolded.
Susan smiled. So far, so good.
A stirring from the back of the church? Mercy, a dog must’ve sneaked in. Folks shuffled to let it pass causing a ripple effect from back to front.
As Mary and Joseph leaned over the manger, a head popped up from under the first pew, crawled over, and peeped in.
“He’s alive,” A little boy leaped to his feet. “He really is alive. Look, if you don’t believe me.” He startled the baby in the manger, little fists swatting the air as he cried.
Susan hurried over, grabbed her son. “So sorry. Didn’t mean to cause a fuss, but he fell asleep so I...” Applause and a standing ovation interrupted her.