Each year, my kids were in Christmas programs at their school. The programs were held in the church of the parish that operated their Catholic school, and religious Christmas carols made up the bulk of the program.
The whole school was in the program. Each class, from kindergarten through eighth grade sang a song or two before moving off the altar for the next oldest class to perform. I think some years the preschool got into the act as well. Many years, the whole school performed a number or two at the end.
To be frank, I hated these Christmas programs. I love Christmas music, but the disorganization of all those little bodies squirming around on the altar, half of them not singing on cue, drove me nuts.
Not to mention the parents. Many parents and grandparents got there at least a half hour early to “save” a pew for their family. Most parents wanted to be as close to the front of the church as possible for picture-taking purposes.
Some families sent a person to save their pew an hour in advance! I was still feeding my kids supper an hour before the program, so my husband and I were never early. Most years, we were relegated to the back of the church. Of course, my husband didn’t care about pictures. He disliked the programs even more than I did.
About halfway through my kids’ attendance at the school, the principal and music teacher announced a new policy—the front pew would be reserved for picture-takers. So the parents of that class could crowd to the front pew and snap their photos. Again, my husband and I rarely took the opportunity.
The year my son was in first grade was several years before the change in policy. My husband and I sat near the back and off to one side. We listened to the first grade sing. He was our only child in the program that year, so we then had to listen to all the other classes sing their carols. (This must be why they had the “whole school” number at the end—so the little kids had to stick around and they and their parents couldn’t sneak out.)
Finally, the whole school gathered on the altar. Lots of squirming until the classes were in position.
Then the song started. After the first verse, there was a very sweet solo voice. I couldn’t see very well, and I wondered which kid was singing.
All the parents near my husband and me turned and looked at us. They smiled. I wondered what they were smiling at.
Then I realized—that was our son singing! I’d had no idea he had a solo. If I’d known, I would have tried to sit near the front.
And that’s why we have no picture of the event. If only our son had been more communicative and told us in advance he would be singing a solo . . . But he was already preparing for adolescence.
I think the music teacher chose him because they needed a younger kid and he was one of the few first-graders who could be counted on to remember the words. I’ve never thought my son had a particularly good voice, but he sounded nice that evening. I don’t remember the song he sang, but I do remember the pride I felt.
What events do you wish you had pictures of?
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Very nice. Summer was in plays and ballet. Ed and I attended. She was funny and good–hence a major in theater. The skills learned on stage have served her well. Problem is, no matter where she is, she is the star! I can’t compete.
You’re a star, too, Pam.