There are three events I am giddy to be part of this December. One is called the Star of Wonder, and offers children a chance to get their hands gluey. There will be a spread of activities across the room, including music, candles, and decorating cookies. When asking people to participate in making it happen, my question is simple.
"Does
that sound like fun?"
The mission statement, were I the kind of person who composes such things, has nothing to do with obligation. There is no need to force anyone to put in time, the way I shove myself to the gym. The reward is infused within the interactions themselves, offering a three year old her very own cupcake along with the frosting to adorn it.
The second effort is the tableaux. As the costumer it is my good fortune to
drape seventy or so people in garb that identifies them as shepherds or wise men. It is an intimate exchange, to help someone shift persona... to pin a headpiece across their forehead, and adjust their belt. It is part of the way we step back in time and bring human faces to a story that stirs our hearts each winter.
The third offering is by far the shortest. For ten minutes, a group of us will lift the strings to marionettes, those silky dolls that come to life
in the eyes of a young child. With soft music, and brief narrative we will convey the miracle of a baby born twenty centuries ago.
Being part of creating memories around the Advent is a sacred space. Even though the noise level during the Star of Wonder will resemble that of a bustling city in Judea, and the volume of six dozen voices in the nave will resound like a host of angels, the quietness that settles over a room full of preschoolers when the puppets come
to life will reflect the hush of a mother bending over her newborn Child.