Being part of the Christmas tableaux each year is a blessing. The first time the twins and I signed up I was still reeling from my mother's death the month before. I cried through every practice and not simply from the overwhelm of learning new songs.

The girls were only four, and during the performances held stuffed lambs in their chubby arms. The sweetness was enough to ease my pain of being an orphan. Seeing the precious infant laying in the manger made it harder to sing, but there were thirty shepherds and if one faded out to compose herself the rest could carry it.

One of the songs we sing is Mary Did You Know? which includes the words "The lame will leap, the dumb will speak, the dead will rise again." As the phrase sailed across the pews I saw a woman on crutches, and another with fourth stage cancer. Healing means more to those who need it than those for whom it is just an embellishment on an already flawless existence. 

This is our ninth year to participate, and it is a treat to see the familiar faces, and practice the songs that are inscribed on my heart. This is the second year with a new director and his enthusiasm and charisma coax us all on to create a better sound.

It is a tradition that seventh graders are angels, so my girls will be in white rather than earth tones. They fit the part well. White with gold on the outside, white with gold on the inside.

While transparency makes it simple to see the angel within a days old baby, or girls still fresh with hope, even the gray haired wise men are material for heaven. John is one of the gray ones, and while I may escalate my expectations around what he could or should do, really he is a newbie to this human thing too.

Mathematically speaking, the difference between a week and sixty years, as a ratio to eternity is smaller than a baby's dimple.