I think the Christmas Eve program will always be emotional for me. Those children up front, in their fancy clothes, singing their songs (maybe). Me, in the pew, crammed with all the other adults and craning my neck, not wanting to miss one minute of the cuteness.
My standards are low.
If they smile and sing, awesome.
If they go up front and just stand nervously, great.
If they stand and stare at their feet all night, good try.
If they get weak-kneed seeing all those people and hide their faces in my lap, oh well.
I will sigh, and shrug, and think, "at least nobody has to be carried to me like Aggie was that year."
She had practiced with her sister all week long. She even submitted to a fancy dress and hair-fixing. She waited with all the other children, wiggly with nervous excitement.
And then, a seizure stole her moment.
It wasn't the first she'd had that day, or the last, but it was a bad, exhausting one.
It deflated her enthusiasm.
It turned her into a sad blob on my lap.
It's almost the only thing I remember about that night.
Now it is 2011.
Different aches and pains.
Same Hope.
But this year... she sings.
My standards are low.
If they smile and sing, awesome.
If they go up front and just stand nervously, great.
If they stand and stare at their feet all night, good try.
If they get weak-kneed seeing all those people and hide their faces in my lap, oh well.
I will sigh, and shrug, and think, "at least nobody has to be carried to me like Aggie was that year."
She had practiced with her sister all week long. She even submitted to a fancy dress and hair-fixing. She waited with all the other children, wiggly with nervous excitement.
And then, a seizure stole her moment.
It wasn't the first she'd had that day, or the last, but it was a bad, exhausting one.
It deflated her enthusiasm.
It turned her into a sad blob on my lap.
It's almost the only thing I remember about that night.
Now it is 2011.
Different aches and pains.
Same Hope.
But this year... she sings.
(Her story, Weak and Loved, now available!)