Personal Narrative: A Christmas Play

Adults all seem to love Christmas plays. Whether it’s the same old generic style or a comedy, they all enjoy the holiday season. However, most people don’t realize the torture of being the lead character. From hours of line study, to the embarrassment of wearing that horrible costume, to the agony of song motions. They all leave a lasting effect on your life. One of the most memorable plays I was in, for many reasons, was A Christmas Ho-Down.

It was September 27, 2006. I had just walked into class and sat down for our Wednesday evening kids class at church. We do a Christmas play every year and it was time to start the practices. My mom, who was the director, walked to the front of the room and announced the title of the production. It was titled A Christmas Ho-Down, and consisted of western theme with a humorous twist.

After a few minutes of discussion, she began to hand out scripts. I read the top of mine and realized I had been allotted the main roll as a cowboy named Bradley. My costume was a flannel shirt, old blue jeans, a cowboy hat, and a pair of boots. I was suppose to have a thick southern accent and a long, drawn out walk.

For the rest of the evening we

all practiced reading through the first scene and discussing the props and costumes we would be needing to acquire, as well as when we would be practicing over the next few months leading up to the show on December 24. It was decided that we would do Wednesday evening practices until mid November. We would then begin Sunday morning practices as well. She then announced for us to have the first scene partially learned by the next week and we headed home.
By the time November rolled around most of us knew our lines. We were beginning to practice the first few scenes without scripts, and started acting along with them to get our timing and positions correct. We started adding our own little bits and pieces as well to create a little more humor from time to time. The best part we came up with was the camels. We were suppose to have camels walking with us instead of horses like most cowboys, but decided riding them would be way better. We chose three of the stronger guys from our church and had costumes made for them. We then began practicing the funniest ways to enter with them to get the congregation involved.
In mid December we had two full dress rehearsals to make sure we had the timing down perfect. We also made sure the costumes fit well and worked with the parts. We ordered pizza and spent the better part of a full Saturday practicing over and over. We had to make sure the lights came on and went off on cue, that the sound tracks lined up, that the characters knew when and where to enter and exit, and that the microphones could be heard well throughout the sanctuary.
When the day of the show rolled around you could say I was a little more than nervous. I knew that I had my lines down, and that even if I messed one up only I would know, but I was still nervous. I got to the church around nine and put on my costume. I ended up using my dark black cowboy hat, a dark blue button up bull riding shirt that said “Wrangler” on the left arm in bright yellow letters, a pair of my old worn-out blue jeans, a belt with a massive Montana Silversmith buckle that had the letter “C” on it, and a pair of my work boots. As a sat in the back room watching the clock slowly count down to show time, I recited my lines over and over in my head.
At about nine forty five my camel, being played by our family friend Chad, came in and sat down next to me and helped calm my nerves. We soon heard my pastor, Brother David Hudson, make the announcement that the show was about to start and we got in position. The first scene started out with me riding the camel down the isle to the front, but it took a crazy turn. Soon I was being hurdled over pews, around members of the congregation, and through low hanging props. He finally made his way to the front and we were all so out of breath that we couldn't say our lines. The audience was rolling with laughter, and my fear was gone. I was joined by two other camels and cowboys who were also trying to get the audience laughing. The one boy was a little on the heavy side, and his camel collapsed half way up the isle, leaving the boy in a pile right on his face.
We finally reached the last scene though, and it became very serious. After all that laughing it was strange to hear it so quiet as the three of us approached the manger with our gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. The camels were sitting in silence, no longer making their noises and trying to draw another laugh, the actors were straight faced and serious, and the audience was watching ever so carefully. It was so amazing in that moment to realize how far we’d came. From not knowing a single line, to having everyone rolling with laughter, to complete silence and deep thought at the sight of a baby in a manger. A baby that to many symbolizes the answer to a question we all ponder, “what is the meaning of life?”
When I first started that play I was hating every moment of it.

I despised being in front of people, I couldn't stand memorizing lines, and all the songs were so childish. But now, looking back, I see what it all meant. It wasn't about the comedy, the boredom of study, or the hatred of poorly written songs. It was about that one moment. A single moment after weeks and months of preparation. Now I see how not everything we do in life is simple or quick. We all expect for results to be immediate but some situations need time to take place. When we’re working our way up to that moment we see the time as pointless, but when you reach that one moment, the one that changes your life and makes you say “thats it!”, that’s when you understand that it was all part of a plan much bigger than you and

I.