Fixing a broken angel

I have never been one to memorize scripture.  I read it.  I like to read it because I see something different each time.  But on Christmas Eve my favorite part of the service is the Benediction when I can recite one of the few passages I know by heart-

Fear not, for behold, I bring you tidings of great joy which shall be to all the people.  For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.  And this shall be a sign unto you.  You shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in the manger.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host singing Glory to God in the highest.  And on earth peace.

I memorized that speech of the angel when I was in the second grade.  I was cast as the angel in the school Christmas pageant.  Obviously, this was before the days when religion was banned from the public schools.  I had the biggest part in the play and I was so excited.  I spend weeks learning my lines as my mother listened over and over and over again.

The really cool part of the whole play was the costume I got to wear.  The shepherds had bathrobes and Mary and Joseph were in dingy stuff.  But I was the angel and I got to wear a beautiful white gown with wings and of course, a halo.  My mother made the costume.  My mother always made our costumes for everything.  She could turn us  into pumpkins, fairies, monsters, almost anything.  She was amazing that way and my costume was glorious.

But then, just weeks before the big production, I fell from the monkey bars (yes, even angels play on monkey bars) and I broke my arm.  I remember crying in the hospital emergency room, more from fear than from pain.  Then once the cast was on I really became worried.  I was to be the angel in just a few weeks and the doctor said I was stuck with the cast for six weeks.  How could I possibly be an angel with a cast?

My mother told me not to worry and she let out the sleeve and enlarged the arm hole so I could still wear the costume.  So it would be possible, but I would still have a cast.  There is no such thing as an angel with a broken arm.  Even my mother’s creative costuming could not make that look right.  It was hopeless.  I was convinced my cast would ruin the whole play.

The day before my stage debut my mother came into my room.  She had a roll of red masking tape in her hand.  She sat down and gently took my cast in her lap and began wrapping the tape around and around and around.  When she was finished she announced, you are no longer an angel with a broken arm.  You are now an angel with a huge candy cane.  How cool was that!!

I think of that every year as I say those words.  How cool is that.