December 12: "A Christmas Pageant for Americans," Christmas Program, Piece of Mind

"'A Christmas Pageant for Americans.'  It stinks, but I'm Benedict Arnold.  I have practically the biggest part," she said.  Boy, was she wide-awake.  She gets very excited when she tells you that stuff...

Phoebe is telling Holden about her Christmas program at school.  She's making sure Holden is coming to see her as Benedict Arnold.  Of course, Holden assures her that he's going to be front and center for her performance, even though their father is flying to California and won't be in attendance.  Christmas doesn't seem to be a big deal in the Caulfield household.


This morning, I went to my son's school Christmas program.  The program was based on a children's Christmas poem, with musical interludes.  I didn't hear too much of the poem.  There were too many people jumping up-and-down to take pictures and wave at their kids.  My son looked great in his little tie and vest outfit, and his face lit up like a comet when he caught sight of my wife and me in the audience.  And, even though the transitions between songs and speakers took an ice age, I really enjoyed myself.

The program sort of reminded me of better Christmases, better years.  I was able to put aside all my worries and cares for a little while and just be happy.  I didn't want to leap to my feet and yell out "Humbug!" at any point during the morning.  Well, maybe once, when some person tried to cut in front of me in the ticket line.  However, the person was politely informed that the line ended over there, about a quarter mile down the hallway.  Merry freakin' Christmas, dumbass.

If you're struggling this holiday season, finding it hard to muster up even a modicum of yuletide oomph, I recommend going to a children's Christmas program.  Even a crappy program is going to lift your spirits.  There's something about all those little kids, dressed in their Christmas finery, grinning and waving like maniacal elves, that is an antidote to even the most severe bout of Scrooge-ness.  For me, that joyful glow lasted all afternoon long.

I watched "Frosty the Snowman" and "A Charlie Brown Christmas" with my son this afternoon.  I sat on the floor with him and helped him make a paper snowman to hang on our porch window.  I even cut out some paper snowflakes.  It was a blast.  For probably the first or second time this December, I actually enjoyed doing something Christmasy.

And that's a piece of Saint Marty's mind.

A perfect morning for a dreary holiday season

May 21: A Christmas Pageant for Americans, Prayer of the Week, Daughter

"'A Christmas Pageant for Americans.'  It stinks, but I'm Benedict Arnold.  I have practically the biggest part," she said.  Boy, she was wide-awake.  She gets very excited when she tells you  that stuff.  "It starts out when I'm dying.  This ghost comes in on Christmas Eve and asks me if I'm ashamed and everything.  You know.  For betraying my country and everything.  Are you coming to it?"  She was sitting way the hell up in the bed and all.  "That's what I wrote you about.  Are you?"

Phoebe wants Holden to come to her Christmas program.  (By the way, doesn't the plot of her program sound a little like Dickens' A Christmas Carol.  Funny how things dovetail like that.)  Anyway, she is like any little kid with a solo or dance or recital.  She wants her big brother and sister and mother and father and aunt to be there.

Tonight, my daughter has her final chorus and band concert for the year.  It's called the Collage Concert, because it basically features every student who's involved in music in the middle school.  That may sound like a tedious and horrifying way of spending an hour.  It's not.  The musical selections are done one after another, without any pauses for applause.  One song ends, another begins.  It's the slickest school music program I've every attended.

My daughter has a solo flute part in a band ensemble tonight.  That's a big deal.  She had to audition for it and was chosen from all the other flutists.  She's really excited.  I, on the other hand, am a typical parent.  I will want to vomit until she is done with her solo.  Then I will relax and enjoy the rest of the concert.

My daughter sort of reminds me of Phoebe in the above passage.  My daughter isn't nervous about playing her part.  She knows it cold.  My daughter is interested in who's coming to see her.  Tonight, it will be my wife and me.  I know my daughter gets nervous.  However, her nerves manifest as temper tantrums and screaming.  It's not a pretty sight.  My whole goal this evening is to deliver my daughter to the band room before she melts into a puddle of adolescent sweat and tears.

I do have a prayer for this week, and it has to do with my daughter.

Dear God,

It's me again, you know, the one who calls himself a saint.  Yeah, yeah, I know you're getting tired of hearing from me.  I'm sorry for making a nuisance of myself.

Today, I'm asking you to look out for my daughter.  She's got that band and chorus concert tonight.  She's acting like it's no big deal, but I know she's nervous.  Give her strength and courage.  Let her play her piece the best she's ever played it.  Let her shine.

I'm not saying this as a jealous parent or because I want her to humiliate the other flutists in the band.  I'm saying this because I want my daughter to be confident.  I want her to know that she's beautiful and talented.  I want her to feel that tonight, in every cell of her body.

I know you're watching out for her.  You've been watching out for her ever since she was a baby and my wife was struggling with bipolar.  All those days my wife spent in bed, holding our infant daughter, afraid to let her go.  I know You were with her then.  Be with her again tonight, please.

Remember my little girl.  Your child.

Yours in love,

Saint Marty

P.S.  If You want to humiliate the other flutists a little bit, that would be OK, too.

Please, God, let the other flutists be jealous of my daughter.  Amen.