My Christmas Pageant Debut

The crowd had to love it. And me . . .

I remember this story every Christmas like it happened yesterday.

It was Christmas at Academy Avenue Elementary School and time for our annual play, the one that readied us for the holiday season of 1951.

With classmates at Academy Avenue Elementary. Me on R

Christmas decorations were everywhere - snowflakes, dancing snowmen holding hands, interlocking rings of red and green splashed across the classroom windows. It was a memorable year of my singing debut.

“Edward, how would you like to be one of the three kings in the story of the Christ Child? You can sing the part of one of the kings.” My only other time on that stage? A book report in front of the entire school. I knew stage fright.

“In front of the whole school? Sing? I cannot sing. I never sing.”

“Well, there’s no time like now to start.”

I knew the story of the kings bearing gifts and following the star, even though I could never remember or pronounce their names or their gifts.

Being too small was no excuse, so I went the nervous route. “I’m too nervous.” Didn’t work.

I was doomed to singing purgatory, where the notes fly to snickering kids and scorning teachers, the worst place imaginable. “What would my friends think? And the ruffians? And the girls? I’m ruined.”

The bonus was that we practiced during the school day. With an empty auditorium, I was fine. My voice sounded pretty good as my warbles bounced around the walls to the ceiling. The day of the show was different. My knees were knocking and my hands freezing as I looked at my Dick Tracy watch, wondering when it would be over.

On the day of the Christmas pageant, our teacher walked toward me carrying colored sheets of reds, blues and purples. In her other hand, she dangled three oversized hats.

“Here, Edward. Put this on your head. And wrap this around your shoulders.” I placed the hat on my head. It was a tall, yellow and gold cardboard thing with peaks and two gold tails that hung down my back. With it, I was an instant king, standing tall until I draped the purple robe. It was too long, and I tripped over it, feeling like Dopey in the Seven Dwarfs.

courtesy of Dreamstime.com

She handed me a long stick, and a box wrapped in gold foil. “The stick is your king’s staff. In the box is your gift for the Baby Jesus, a golden chest full of frankincense.” I shook the box. Zilch. No matter. I didn’t know what frankincense was anyway.

We strolled into the auditorium. I looked out the cloudy plate-glass windows high above. There were curved rims of ice on each corner. The sky was a gray white. “Snow is coming,” I thought. “We’ll have a white Christmas.” I wanted a Flexible Flyer, and I started to dream of the snow-covered hill near the golf course. I was startled back to reality by the clangorous vibration of the bell.

The only thing I remembered at this point was walking onto the stage.

The doors blew open and a booming buzz infused the chamber as the kids tromped in. With the hectic season building, they bumped into the rows, smashed their folding seats and plopped down with excitement bordering on frenzy. I doubt that it was the show. More likely, it was because the show was the last thing before Christmas break. They had skates, sleds and sugarplums dancing. The decibel count was out of sight and bounced from wall to ceiling to wall.

The principal strolled to the front and as she raised her hand, the roar dipped to a rumble and then, silence. Scowling teachers tapped kids on the shoulders.

I awakened to notice the stage.

To the rear was the nativity scene, where my friend Joseph, who was playing Joseph, was dressed in a plain brown cloth. He had an enviable silent part. Joanie, dressed in blue, was Mary. She cradled a doll wrapped in white. She too had a silent part. Surrounded by kids in cow and sheep costumes, all they had to do was remain motionless and look at the Baby Jesus. Lucky them.

A loud whisper. “OK, OK, get up there, Kings, move to the front. Sheep and cows stay to the rear.” I approached the front of the stage with the two other kings, Roland and Richard, who were much bigger. A note from the piano rang, and the teacher whispered. “OK, Boys. Start.”

We angled toward the Baby Jesus while still facing the crowd and started to sing… Roland’s voice booming over the masses and covering me.

“Edward, hold up your gift.” Oh yes, the gift. I tucked the staff under my arm. It nearly fell, but with the skill of a drum major, I caught it. The piano player raised her hand and lowered it.

We three kings of orient are….

We still had our solos.

But wait. Something changed. My knees were no longer knocking under that King’s garment. They were swinging to the beat of the piano…We three kings da, da, da, da, dahhhh… I became a confident Melchior, ready. Da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da…

Rolling my eyes, I looked up at the globes pouring light on the assembly. “Your turn. It’s OK.” I already knew it was OK. Teachers stood at attention in the back of the room with their arms folded. “Sing over the crowd to the back of the auditorium.”

Stretching to my toes, swinging to the direction of the piano teacher, knees swinging, feeling like a king, thinking about vacation, with a deep gasp and rumbling in my chest, I burst out...

Born a King on Bethlehem’s plain,

The notes flowed like honey from my oval-shaped mouth…I had it, I was regal, a star… floating over the crowd like an angel, err, rather a King. For the moment, I was THE King.

Gold I bring to crown Him again… da, da, da, da, da, da, da, da….

I held up the gift. It was Frankincense, but the crowd was unaware.

King forever, ceasing never

My crown wobbled.

Over us all to reign…ya, ya, yain… ainnn…ainnn…

It was over. Exhilarated, I forgot where I was. A whisper… “The gift, Edward, the gift.”

Oh yeah, the gift. I turned and walked to the manger, lifted my hands, and with a slight flex, lowered the gift ever so slowly and placed it in front of the Baby. I glanced over my shoulder. Mrs. Dooley was smiling. I glanced to the other side where Miss Howard was smiling.

The crowd had to love it.

We were done. My majestic, regal rise was over.

Everyone belted out “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Santa rang a bell. A war whoop sprang from the crowd.

Jingle bells, jingle bells . . .

I bolted down the stairs, ran to the dressing room, tossed the crown, the gift, and the sheet into the pile, ran out of the room and bounded down two more sets of stairs.

Christmas was in the air. I was a king. Guide me home, O star of wonder and light…da, da, da, da, da, da da, daaaa….

2025