Page 21 of A Waltz to Remember

“And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed,” he read, his voice clear and authoritative and unhurried. “And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, to be taxed with Mary, his espoused wife, being great with child.”

He paused while Joseph (George Handrich, Lord Hodges’s boy) and Mary (Emily Arden) made their way in slowly, the latter bowed over with weariness as she leaned upon Joseph’s arm, one hand spread over her stomach, and he rested one hand upon the neck of a panting Nelson, Robbie’s dog, which could easily be mistaken for a small donkey. They came to a stop behind the manger, and Mary sank down beside the thickest pile of straw there. Nelson trotted over to sit at Robbie’s feet and lick his paws.

Robbie resumed the narrative. “And so it was that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.”

Mary had hunched over the straw beside her as he spoke and now straightened up with a bundle of white blanket with the face of a porcelain doll peeping out in her arms. She laid it tenderly on the straw in the manger, and Joseph leaned forward to take a look and smile.

There was no longer a thick pile of straw behind them.

So far, so very good indeed, Bertrand thought.

“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night,” Robbie read. And obligingly, two shepherds and two shepherdesses, yawning and stretching and scratching, one of them complaining, perhaps ad lib, that nights on duty were s-o-o long and s-o-o-o boring, made their way to stand to one side of the stable.

“And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid,” Robbie read.

An angel with flowing garments and waving wings wafted down the aisle and about the stable to take her place behind and to one side of the shepherds, who were cowering and clinging to one another in fright and amazement.

The angel made her triumphant announcement in Robbie’s voice: “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy.” The angel announced the birth and told them where they would find the child. “And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God.”

Host was an appropriate word for the crowd of angels that made its haphazard way along the aisle to join the first angel, clashing together, almost squabbling when wings got entangled until Winifred rushed in to untangle them and soothe tempers. One tiny angel, Belinda Ellis, took fright midway and dashed off to one side, wailing as she climbed onto her mother’s wheelchair, and hid her face against her mother’s bosom. Another, Benjamin Bennington, stopped halfway, his wings slightly askew, and smiled broadly as he pointed to one side at Viola.

“Look at me, Grandmama,” he cried, and waved.

There were titters of fond amusement from the audience. But eventually all the angels, except Belinda, were lined up in roughly two rows beside the first one, and there was a pause while Stephanie from behind the easel sang a note and all but one of them burst into a ragged, enthusiastic, not-quite-in-tune rendition of “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing.” The exception was Benjamin, who was distracted by the sight of his mother, to whom he waved while his wings tipped and almost collided with the eye of the angel standing behind him.

“Stand still,” she scolded.

The audience applauded when the singing ended, and Nelson scrambled to his haunches and growled. Robbie set a quieting hand on his head.

“And it came to pass,” Robbie read, “as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, ‘Let us go even now unto Bethlehem and see this thing which has come to pass.’ ”

The angels shuffled sideward until they were directly behind the manger, while the shepherds, gesticulating as they talked silently among themselves, took a few steps forward until they stood on the floor covering of the stable. One of them shook Joseph’s hand while another aahed audibly at the sight of the baby, and Mary smiled serenely at them all.

Robbie shuffled pages in his Bible until he found the passage from another Gospel that he needed. He looked up briefly and resumed his narrative.

“Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, there came wise men from the east to Jerusalem. And lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was.”

Two wise men and one wise woman, wearing richly painted paper crowns and carrying painted boxes, made their stately way from the back of the room, one of them pointing up at the star as they came, and took their places on the other side of the manger from the shepherds.

“And when they were come into the house,” Robbie said, “they saw the young child with Mary his mother: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense and myrrh.”

One by one the wise ones stepped forward, bowed to Mary and Joseph—the wise woman curtsied—and laid their boxes beside the manger, with reverent glances at the swaddled baby.

Stephanie sang a quiet note from behind the easel again, and the angels sang the first verse of “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing” once more. Robbie stood and gestured with his free hand to the audience, and they all joined in the singing before standing to give the players an enthusiastic round of applause.

“I believe,” Alexander said, standing from his place in the front row when they had quietened again, “we should offer special thanks to Robbie Cunningham, who brought the Christmas story alive as no one from any pulpit has ever done so well in my hearing.”

Robbie looked almost stricken while everyone applauded again and Owen and Peter Wayne cheered and Bertrand whistled. Robbie clung to his dog’s neck with one hand as though his life depended upon it.

“And to Winifred and Stephanie, who took on the seemingly impossible, and made of it a great success,” Avery said. “And to everyone behind the scenes who worked so hard.”

Again the appreciative applause and cheers and whistle.

“And of course to all the performers who have given us the most wonderful Christmas pageant we could possibly have had.”

“And now the dancing?” Josephine Archer asked hopefully.

“And now the dancing,” Camille said with a laugh. “Or, shall we say, in half an hour’s time?”