Chez Moi

“Do not cry – wave at him but do not cry!”, advised my colleagues as I left work early to go to my son’s school Nativity Play.

“Cry? Now why would I do that? I will be beaming from ear to ear, clapping away like mad – but cry? Bah!” retorted I and started making my way schoolward.

Two weeks back, my son came home one day from his infant school, told me that he’s to practice his “lines” and I am to help him memorise it. I was puzzled. “Lines? What lines?” I wondered. Gentle probing brought out the whole story – little P has been chosen as one of the narrators for the Reception class’s rendition of the story of the very first Christmas. Needless to say, I was really pleased. Hell, I felt on top of the world!

My little baby, a narrator, in his very first school play! Aww! We practised his lines diligently, that day and the next and the next and soon enough, P was word perfect. He could say without a moment’s hesitation “Inside the stable the wise men gave Jesus their gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.” Even when I felt a pleasant glow at hearing him saying it so perfectly, I couldn’t help wondering how he would do when faced with hundreds of eager parents on D-Day.

After couple of weeks of practise, the Reception class’ Nativity performance was scheduled for the Tuesday. Taking the time off from work, hubby and I reached the school early only to find a mile long queue of identically eager parents patiently waiting to be let inside. At the appointed time and not a moment too soon, the doors opened and we filed inside. On surveying the Hall, every parent could be seen trying to look for the vantage point from where they could see the apple of their eye clearly. For the first time in school history, the front row seats were gone within a trice.

S and I took the middle seats of Row 2 and counted the minutes to 2 pm, when the show would start. Soon enough, the Head Teacher took centre stage and announced the children in. My heart swelled with pride to see my little man come marching in quietly, along with the rest of his friends. Dressed in his narrator outfit, he looked just the same as the other children but of course, we spotted him straightaway, long enough before his searching eyes located us in the audience and lighted up.

One by one, the narrators said their lines, whilst the actors went about enacting one of the best-known religious stories. There were loads of sniffles audible throughout, as mums dabbed their eyes when their babies lisped their lines. One little boy stole the show by singing about 10 decibels louder than the rest of the children and never mind the cue!

Finally, it was Pratik’s turn. He stood up, said his bit, waiting every time for the wise men to give the corresponding gift and then carried on with the rest of his line. He did not even falter when the second wise men chucked the jug containing frankincense with a huge clatter and the audience split its sides. He just carried on with “… and myrrh” and sat down.

Three other children went on to say their piece and sing ‘Away in the manger’. I did not hear a word – I was too busy crying with happiness and drying my tears!