This story was written for the 2017 Advent Calendar – Day 16<\/p>\n
Summary:\u00a0 The citizens of Virginia City are treated to The Nativity Play, with the Cartwrights having prominent parts in the production.<\/p>\n
Rating:\u00a0 G\u00a0 4,000 words<\/p>\n
You will find\u00a0a Babe wrapped in swaddling cloths<\/b>,<\/em> A Performance to Remember Marie could barely contain her excitement until after her husband had said grace over the evening meal and the dishes began to be passed, but she forced herself to wait.\u00a0\u00a0Both Ben and Adam had worked hard all day, and young Hoss, of course, was never as receptive to new ideas before a meal as he was after it.\u00a0\u00a0Thankfully, her own wee babe had already nursed his fill and was sleeping sweetly in his cradle by the fireplace.\u00a0\u00a0Not that he\u2019d understand enough to be excited anyway, even though he was the major cause, she thought, restraining the urge to giggle.<\/p>\n When everyone seemed to settle into their enjoyment of Hop Sing\u2019s fine supper, she casually mentioned, \u201cReverend Latimer came by today.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, what did he want?\u201d Ben asked between bites of tender beef.\u00a0\u00a0It was inconceivable that their pastor would have driven this far out from town just to pass the time of day.<\/p>\n The excitement held in so long came bubbling out.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOh, Ben, it is the most wonderful news!\u201d she exclaimed.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThere is to be a grand celebration at the church on Christmas Eve.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere usually is,\u201d Adam pointed out.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d Hoss put in enthusiastically.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThey put up a tree with bundles of candy and gifts for everyone . . . well, exceptin\u2019 the grownups.\u00a0\u00a0They just get candy and, maybe, an orange.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He hoped someone had thought to bring oranges from California this year, as the tangy fruit was something he didn\u2019t often get.<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Marie said, straining to be patient with the interruptions, \u201cbut this year there is to be a pageant, as well.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d Hoss said with a small frown.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cDoes it taste good?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben and Adam laughed out loud, while even Marie had to stifle a giggle.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNon, mon cher<\/i>,\u201d she said, reaching over to stroke his wheat-hued hair with a loving hand.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou do not eat it; you watch it.\u00a0\u00a0A pageant is a play that tells the story of the Christ Child\u2019s coming.\u201d<\/p>\n Hoss\u2019s eyes widened.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWith wise men and camels and everything?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cProbably not camels,\u201d his older brother chuckled.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWise men, for sure, though, and shepherds.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd sheep!\u201d Hoss crowed, giving a bounce in his chair.<\/p>\n \u201cShh,\u201d warned their mother.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou do not wish to wake your little brother.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo, ma\u2019am,\u201d Hoss whispered, settling down at once.\u00a0\u00a0His little brother, small as he was, would raise the rafters with his yelling if he got woke up unexpected, and it could go on just forever.\u00a0\u00a0No one wanted to hear that!<\/p>\n \u201cWell, that sounds very interesting,\u201d Ben offered cautiously, for he sensed there was more to be told.\u00a0\u00a0It wasn\u2019t likely the good reverend had made that long trip from town simply to impart a piece of news that could as easily have been announced in church the following Sunday.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cDoes he want your help with sewing the costumes?\u201d he asked, for Marie\u2019s fine needlework was without peer in the community.<\/p>\n \u201cBien s\u00fbr<\/i>,\u201d she replied, \u201cand he wants your help, as well, Benjamin, and the boys\u2019, too, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI suppose I could put together a manger and the frame of a stable,\u201d Ben said slowly.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAnd, yes, the boys could help.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Adam, in fact, would be a fine helper for a construction project, as he was with so many tasks around the ranch these days, and six-year-old Hoss could, at least, fetch nails and other needed things.\u00a0\u00a0Yes, he\u2019d be happy to support the church in ways like that.<\/p>\n Marie frowned.\u00a0\u00a0Ben was being obtuse\u2014deliberately so, she suspected.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI believe Clyde Thomas is making those.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh, good choice,\u201d Ben said and turned his attention back to his beef.<\/p>\n Marie placed her hand atop his.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou have not asked your part in the production,\u201d she scolded softly.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNor has Adam.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m happy to help in any way I can,\u201d Adam assured her.\u00a0\u00a0The quick answer was not only good policy, but sincerely felt.\u00a0\u00a0He loved drama and would happily do anything he could to encourage it in Virginia City, even if the storyline was one as well known as the birth of Jesus.<\/p>\n \u201cThank you, Adam,\u201d Marie said with a smile that managed to be both approving toward him and chiding toward her husband at the same time.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cReverend Latimer hopes that you will agree to play the part of Joseph, the earthly father of our Lord.\u00a0\u00a0It is a major role and a great honor.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, ma\u2019am!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Adam\u2019s enthusiasm was genuine, although his grin melted to a tentative smile as he asked, \u201cWho\u2019s playing Mary?\u201d<\/p>\n Marie laughed.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cReverend Latimer did not say, but there cannot be too many to choose from,\u00a0oui<\/i>?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOui<\/i>,\u201d Adam agreed.\u00a0\u00a0Unless the pastor went with someone much older or younger than he was, Mary would probably be played by either Ruth Blanchard or Rosemary Wilson.\u00a0\u00a0He\u2019d prefer pretty, sweet-natured Rosemary, but figured he could tolerate Ruth.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat about me?\u201d Hoss demanded.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou said \u2018boys.\u2019\u00a0\u00a0That means me, too, don\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMais oui<\/i>,\u201d his mother said.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou are to be a shepherd boy,\u00a0mon doux<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, boy!\u201d<\/p>\n She turned toward her husband.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt is good for our sons to be so trusted,\u00a0oui<\/i>?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOui<\/i>,\u201d he said.\u00a0\u00a0If only that were where it would end.\u00a0\u00a0He feared\u2014almost to the point of certainty\u2014that it would not end with only the boys on stage.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd you,\u00a0mon mari<\/i>?\u201d\u00a0\u00a0She tilted her head meaningfully as she asked, \u201cYou will show our sons that you, too, can be trusted with whatever the good pastor asks of you,\u00a0oui<\/i>?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat depends on what he asks,\u201d Ben stated plainly.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI learned a long time ago not to buy a pig in a poke.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere will be no pigs,\u201d Marie said, thoroughly confused by the unfamiliar saying.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cReverend Latimer asks, instead, that you take the role of King Herod.\u00a0\u00a0It is a small part, but he feels you are perfect for it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe must have heard about Pa\u2019s thunder-from-on-high voice,\u201d Adam chuckled.<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019ll be just enough out of you, \u2018Joseph,\u2019\u201d Ben grunted.\u00a0\u00a0He reached for his glass of water.<\/p>\n Adam clucked his tongue.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThe honor of the role must have scrambled your thinking, Pa.\u00a0\u00a0I\u2019m not Joseph.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He pointed toward the cradle.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThat\u2019s Joseph.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo,\u201d Marie inserted, her face glowing with motherly pride as she rested her chin on her interlaced fingers and sighed in pure joy, \u201cthat is Jesus.\u00a0\u00a0What a precious Prince of Peace he will make.\u201d<\/p>\n Water spewed from Ben\u2019s mouth.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cNo,\u201d he croaked weakly.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cPlease tell me you\u2019re teasing, Marie.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMais non<\/i>,\u201d she said, eyes flashing as the beatific expression vanished from her face.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cSurely, you see what a great privilege it is for our son to portray the Holy Child.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOr some great cosmic joke,\u201d Adam muttered beneath his breath.<\/p>\n Marie\u2019s eyes narrowed as she spun to face their eldest son.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhat did you say?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam raised his voice.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI said, \u2018What a great stroke . . . of genius, that is.\u201d<\/p>\n As Marie smiled, Ben arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.\u00a0\u00a0Far be it from him to repeat Adam\u2019s actual words, which he had heard clearly and with which he wholeheartedly agreed.\u00a0\u00a0Even Hoss, young as he was, was shaking his head from side to side, his eyes wide with disbelief and outright panic.<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t you think Joseph is rather young to take on such an important role?\u201d Ben suggested.\u00a0\u00a0He didn\u2019t dare voice his real concern.\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe, a happy cherub as long as everything went his way, could transform instantly into a howling bundle of rage when they did not.<\/p>\n Marie turned her hardening gaze from eldest son to father.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI think,\u201d she said sharply, \u201cthat the Baby Jesus was even younger when he played the part!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, but he was God,\u201d Hoss put in and immediately wished he hadn\u2019t.\u00a0\u00a0Marie, apparently taking pity on his youth, merely said, \u201cMais oui<\/i>\u201d and urged him to eat his dinner.\u00a0\u00a0With instinctive wisdom, the youngster immediately raised his fork and dug in.<\/p>\n Almost as if he could literally feel the sparks flying at him from his wife, Ben winced.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYes, well, it\u2019s not his age, exactly,\u201d he mumbled.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s\u2014it\u2019s . . .\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d Marie demanded.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cWhy do you not wish this honor for our son?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not that,\u201d Ben protested.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cOf course, it is an honor and I\u2019d be happy for him to have it, but, well, Little Joe is such a\u201d\u2014he struggled for the right words and finally landed on \u201csensitive child.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He congratulated himself on successfully coming up with an expression both apt and, hopefully, inoffensive, even if \u201csensitive\u201d was a rather generous description of his youngest son\u2019s disposition.\u00a0\u00a0From birth onward, Little Joe had reacted explosively to the smallest changes in his environment, whether it was a damp diaper or a colicky tummy or too much sunlight striking his cradle or a feeding more than five minutes overdue or\u2014the list seemed endless.<\/p>\n \u201cYou don\u2019t think he\u2019s up to it,\u201d Marie charged, voice distinctly edged with the pain of affronted maternal pride.<\/p>\n \u201cOh, I\u2019m sure he would handle it just fine,\u201d Ben said.\u00a0\u00a0It was the rest of them, every blessed one of them within range of his bellowing, that would suffer.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cBut it would be hard on the little fellow, Marie.\u00a0\u00a0Just think about it for a minute.\u00a0\u00a0You know how drafty the church can be.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNo more so than on those Sundays we attend services with you,\u201d Marie argued, \u201cand certainly no more than the stable of Bethlehem.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, no, I suppose not,\u201d Ben admitted, \u201cbut then there\u2019s the crowd.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLittle Joe likes people,\u201d his mother said proudly.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cHe\u2019s very friendly.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes,\u201d Ben agreed slowly, \u201cthat\u2019s true, but that manger certainly won\u2019t be as comfortable as his own little cradle, Marie.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe will make it so,\u201d Marie insisted.<\/p>\n \u201cHe might get hungry in the middle of the scene.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Ben was getting desperate now.<\/p>\n \u201cI will nurse him just before, of course.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Marie\u2019s color was rising with each objection she had to fight off.<\/p>\n The look Ben cast at his oldest son was somewhat akin to that of a drowning man begging for someone to throw him a rope.\u00a0\u00a0Adam obliged by asking whether Marie thought her son would tolerate being bundled up tightly.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThe part does call for a babe wrapped in swaddling cloths, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d he asked with an air of innocence that might have presaged a career on the stage.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAnd Little Joe does like his freedom.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe sure does,\u201d Hoss risked coming up from his plate to offer.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cTosses his covers off every night.\u201d<\/p>\n Marie had had enough.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cYou are all most infuriating!\u201d she declared.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI had never thought to find you so . . . so selfish.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Tears filled her eyes as she left the table and went to kneel next to her sleeping son.<\/p>\n Ben blinked.\u00a0\u00a0Selfish?\u00a0\u00a0How could sparing the congregation from being deafened by a bawling baby be selfish?\u00a0\u00a0Wasn\u2019t it more of a blessing to them and everyone else whose ears were within a mile\u2019s radius of the church?\u00a0\u00a0Still, he couldn\u2019t bear to see his wife cry, so he left the table and came to squat at her side.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMarie, my love,\u201d he began as he put an arm around her.<\/p>\n She wriggled out of his embrace.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI am not your love,\u201d she insisted.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAt least, you do not treat me as such, nor do you treat your son with love.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNow, Marie,\u201d he protested.<\/p>\n \u201cDo you not understand?\u00a0\u00a0I want everything for him, Ben\u2014everything!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0The tears poured down her cheeks.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cIt will not be for him as it has been for me, people talking behind their hands, saying the vilest things!\u00a0\u00a0He will be accepted among your friends.\u00a0\u00a0This\u2014this can be the beginning.\u201d<\/p>\n He again put his arms around her, and this time she crumpled into them.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cMarie, sweetheart,\u201d he soothed, stroking her golden hair, \u201cyou are accepted among my friends.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He laid a finger across her lips to stifle her protest.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cAnyone who does not accept you is not my friend,\u201d he said firmly, \u201cand you shouldn\u2019t give a moment\u2019s thought to bigots who insist that everyone share the same ethnic and religious heritage they do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThey aren\u2019t worth a penny next to you,\u201d Adam declared.<\/p>\n \u201cYeah,\u201d Hoss agreed.\u00a0\u00a0He didn\u2019t understand about bigots\u2014and, frankly, never would; it was enough for him that those people had made his mother cry.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI love you, Ma,\u201d he said, hopping up from the table and running to wrap his chubby arms around her neck.<\/p>\n \u201cAnd everyone loves Little Joe, too,\u201d Ben said, adding with a smile, \u201cYou know what a charmer he is.\u201d<\/p>\n She looked up hopefully.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThen you agree that he will charm everyone as the babe in the manger?\u201d<\/p>\n Adam, who had walked over to join the others, and Hoss exchanged a panicky look, for both could feel their father wavering.\u00a0\u00a0Adam gave his little brother a discreet shake of his head.\u00a0\u00a0<\/i>Speaking up now was simply too risky to be considered, and both boys held their breaths for a long minute.\u00a0\u00a0Don\u2019t give in<\/i>, Adam silently pleaded with his father, though with little hope.\u00a0\u00a0The signs of craven caving were all too evident, and for once, he couldn\u2019t even blame Pa; he had a feeling he\u2019d turn craven, too, given the chance.<\/p>\n \u201cOf course, my love,\u201d Ben finally said, albeit weakly.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cLittle Joe will be . . . charming.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Between now and Christmas Eve, he would, of course, make it a matter of diligent prayer, and surely God, in His mercy, would ordain that his son\u2019s sojourn in the manger would be blessedly silent.\u00a0\u00a0After all, miracles had been known to happen.<\/p>\n **********<\/p>\n Ben reached beneath his beard to give his itchy chin a discontented scratch.\u00a0\u00a0Should\u2019ve grown my own<\/i>, he muttered into the gray wool, although Marie would have hated it and he would have hated giving up her kisses until Christmas morning.\u00a0\u00a0Of course, like her son, to whom she\u2019d passed on the trait, she was all kisses and smiles, now that she had gotten her way about this pageant nonsense.\u00a0\u00a0And speaking of now, where was the woman?\u00a0\u00a0The great drama was about to begin, and he hadn\u2019t seen her since she\u2019d gone looking for some secluded spot in which to give the child a last-minute, hopefully silent-night-producing, feed.<\/p>\n Good luck with that search, he might have told her, had he wished to take his life in his hands.\u00a0\u00a0The small church was made even smaller by the curtained-off staging area at the front, where all the actors, scenery and stage props were now crowded.\u00a0\u00a0And since the Christ Child must not be seen until the climactic moment, Marie must be somewhere back here, along with the shepherds, wise men and the rest of the entourage.\u00a0\u00a0(Thankfully, Hoss\u2019s suggestion of real sheep had been overruled.)\u00a0\u00a0Luck?\u00a0\u00a0She\u2019d need a miracle to even find a place to sit, much less one out of view of inquisitive eyes.<\/p>\n Marie must have found that miracle somewhere, though, for she was smiling as she appeared at the side of King Herod a minute or so later.\u00a0\u00a0So, amazingly, was a babe wrapped, however loosely, in swaddling cloths, and thanks be to God, that babe was sleeping.\u00a0\u00a0God willing, they just might carry this off.<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019d better get out front,\u201d Ben whispered.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, I suppose.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Marie gave her baby one last, fond look and then held him out to her husband.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t take him,\u201d Ben hissed.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cDid you forget I\u2019ve also been roped into doing the Scripture narration?\u00a0\u00a0That starts any minute!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, I did forget,\u201d she said, looking suddenly panicked.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cBut what can . . .\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Hoss?\u00a0\u00a0Where is Hoss?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cGetting ready to go onstage,\u201d Ben reminded her.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cThe shepherds are there at the beginning, remember?\u00a0\u00a0And I don\u2019t think Baby Jesus needs to be in the field with them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhere is Adam, then?\u201d<\/p>\n Ben shrugged.\u00a0\u00a0No doubt his older son was somewhere in the group of players crowded behind the makeshift curtains, but where was an unanswerable question.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll take him,\u201d a young girl offered.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cI\u2019d love to hold him.\u201d<\/p>\n Marie, moments ago willing to entrust her baby to a six-year-old\u2014granted, one with especially strong arms\u2014now looked askance at a girl twice that age.<\/p>\n \u201cShe is his mother, after all,\u201d Ben pointed out dryly.\u00a0\u00a0For goodness\u2019 sakes, who had Marie expected would place her child in the manger?<\/p>\n \u201cOh . . . yes.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Marie was forced to concede the logic of handing Little Joe to Rosemary, who was portraying the Virgin Mary as Adam had hoped.\u00a0\u00a0\u201cKeep him still,\u201d she cautioned and then fled to the opposite side of the curtain before the teardrops trembling on her lashes could spill over.\u00a0\u00a0Ben, of course, would never understand the wrenching of a mother\u2019s heart, torn between wanting the world for her son and wanting for herself nothing in the world but him, safe in her arms.<\/p>\n After the pastor went through a litany of thanking everyone who\u2019d had any part in the production (going back to Methuselah, Adam would later say) the Christmas story opened with Ben\u2019s cello-toned voice proclaiming, \u201cAnd it came to pass in those days that a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Since he was in costume, he had to remain behind the curtain, but that thin barrier was no obstacle for a man whose voice could move mountains (again, his oldest son\u2019s description).<\/p>\n The shepherds took their places in the field at the far side of the stage, and then Adam and Rosemary were led into the stable by a harried innkeeper.\u00a0\u00a0For the sake of decency and the impracticality of staging such a scene with a living child, the Virgin Mary was already carrying her baby, even before the narrator announced that she had \u201cbrought him forth.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0Ben felt a moment\u2019s trepidation as she laid the swaddled infant in the manger, but Little Joe slept on peacefully.<\/p>\n With everyone in place, the drama moved back to the shepherds.\u00a0\u00a0There was little dialog, but Hoss was especially thrilled that he got to point to the sky and say, \u201cLook!\u00a0\u00a0Angels!\u201d\u00a0\u00a0A very small angel choir (both in number and stature) sang sweetly and, thankfully, softly.\u00a0\u00a0Still the babe in the manger continued to sleep.\u00a0\u00a0Ben began to wonder if his wife had smuggled a drop or two of his brandy into their youngest son\u2019s wee mouth (a notion she would later indignantly refute) but he felt no inclination to question whatever means she (and\/or God) had used to perform this miracle.<\/p>\n The story was progressing perfectly, from the visit of the shepherds to the wise men\u2019s encounter with King Herod to their eventual appearance at the stable in Bethlehem.\u00a0\u00a0However, somewhere along their long journey, portrayed by their circling around the audience and turning back toward the stage, the babe in the manger began to stir restlessly, his tiny arms fighting against the swaddling cloths entrapping him.\u00a0\u00a0Still, Little Joe\u2019s protests were no more than soft whimpers as he struggled to free himself, and Ben had hope that they could get through the last few minutes of the story before his son\u2019s irritation grew to ear-splitting proportions.\u00a0\u00a0After all<\/i>, he implored his heavenly Father,\u00a0it\u2019s only a small miracle we\u2019re asking here, nothing like turning water into wine or walking on water.<\/i><\/p>\n He almost had his miracle in hand, but as the wise men knelt before the manger and extended their gifts toward the child, Baby Jesus let loose a most ungodly shriek of sheer terror.\u00a0\u00a0To the list of damp diapers, a colicky tummy, too much sunlight and a nursing more than five minutes overdue, Ben mentally added strange, bearded faces bending over his\u2014to use the generous description\u2014sensitive son.\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe was not happy, and he was quite willing for everyone in town\u2014and possibly California\u2014to hear about it.<\/p>\n Rosemary reached out to pat his tiny tummy, but Little Joe only screeched all the louder.\u00a0\u00a0Figuring a familiar face was what the boy needed, Ben started toward him, but then stopped in sudden realization.\u00a0\u00a0He was still dressed as King Herod, and to have the man who wanted the infant Savior of the World killed snatch him right out of the manger would make a travesty of Scripture and set the whole room roaring with laughter.\u00a0\u00a0Marie would never forgive him for making their son the butt of Virginia City\u2019s jokes.\u00a0\u00a0On the other hand, if someone didn\u2019t calm that child down soon, Marie herself would probably march onto the stage to rescue her baby from the nasty wise men making him cry.\u00a0\u00a0That wasn\u2019t exactly a Scriptural conclusion to the pageant, either.\u00a0\u00a0Perhaps King Herod would create less havoc, after all.<\/p>\n Before the murderous king could move from behind the curtain, however, someone much more appropriate stepped up to the challenge.\u00a0\u00a0Somehow with the instinct and the aplomb to remain in character, Adam said to Rosemary, \u201cHere, Mary.\u00a0\u00a0Let me try.\u201d\u00a0\u00a0He reached into the manger, adding as he scooped up his little brother, \u201cCome to your pa, Jesus.\u201d<\/p>\n Little Joe only screamed louder, and Ben\u2019s hopes died once more.<\/p>\n Then, as he swayed his little brother in his arms, Adam began to sing, \u201cHark, the herald angels sing, Glory to the newborn King.\u00a0\u00a0Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled.\u201d<\/p>\n The baby\u2019s cries slowed, as he stared quizzically into the woolly face bending over him.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0It was as unfamiliar to him as those of the wise men, but he must have recognized his brother\u2019s voice, for the sobs hiccupped to a halt.\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe managed to work one tiny fist free and, reaching up, he grabbed the false beard and tugged.\u00a0\u00a0As the face behind it was revealed, the wailing infant suddenly became a chortling cherub.\u00a0\u00a0Continuing to sing, Adam held his little brother aloft as if presenting to the world its Savior.\u00a0\u00a0The audience stood to their feet and applauded.\u00a0\u00a0That song, everyone afterward said, might have been unplanned, but it was the most fitting conclusion to the pageant that any of them could have conceived.\u00a0\u00a0From then until he left for college, no one considered any church program complete without a solo by Adam Cartwright.\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe Cartwright, on the other hand, was excluded from any dramatic production for years to come, and a nice, predictably quiet rag doll portrayed the Baby Jesus from that time forward.<\/p>\n The End<\/p>\n \u00a9 December, 2017<\/p>\n BONUS SUBMISSION<\/em><\/p>\n When I first saw this prompt, it inspired absolutely nothing, so in desperation I tried my hand at a bit of free verse, a genre I don’t even like as a reader.\u00a0 Thankfully, my muse did finally cooperate with the story\u00a0posted above.\u00a0 My first attempt at free verse is not great, but hopefully, it’s not horrible, either, and I thought you might enjoy seeing it.\u00a0 So, here’s a second present for you.<\/p>\n Merry Christmas!<\/p>\n When first she gazed upon your face, Yet you were not a babe wrapped in swaddling cloths, Without your cackling jaybird laugh, Despite your never-ending pranks, From the moment you first held my reaching finger These thoughts I dare not speak aloud, <\/p>\n Link to the 2017 Advent Calendar – Day 17 –\u00a0<\/span>Unto Us a Son<\/a> by Inca<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Tags:\u00a0 Adam Cartwright,\u00a0Ben Cartwright,\u00a0Hoss Cartwright,\u00a0Joe \/ Little Joe Cartwright,\u00a0Marie Cartwright<\/p>\n
\nlying in a manger.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n
\n~~by Puchi Ann<\/strong><\/p>\n
\n
\nHer eyes shone with the selfsame light
\nThat must have sparkled in Madonna\u2019s eyes,
\nWhen she beheld her well-loved child.<\/p>\n
\nAnd mercy knows, my impish little brother,
\nYou have no mission to save the world.
\nStill, I could not imagine my world without you.<\/p>\n
\nWithout your boundless zest for life,
\nWithout the love you freely (at times too freely?) show,
\nWhile mine stays hidden in my breast.<\/p>\n
\nThe weekly (daily?) need for saving you from slaughter
\nBy shotgun-wielding fathers of marriageable daughters,
\nI would not change a minute of all that we have shared.<\/p>\n
\nClutched within your tiny, clinging fist,
\nMy heart was captured, too, and held
\nWithin your grasp for all the days to come.<\/p>\n
\nBut now that Christmastide has come,
\nI write this humble verse, so you will know
\nHow very much I love you,\u00a0\u00a0Little Joe.<\/p>\n