I was always the narrator and never the angel.
What fun is it to stand up at the lectern, knowing that the grownups chose you because you can pronounce most words right? So you mumble and rush through the story, watching the angels trip down the aisle in their lovely white robes.
Now, though, I'm on the other side of the lectern, coaching the children to SLOW DOWN for heaven's sake.
They've narrated before, they think. Obviously THEY don't need to listen to me. They know the story. Everyone else knows the story. Ho hum.
Besides, it doesn't make any sense anyway, they think. Why should the shepherds be terrified? Angels are just overgrown fairies, right? And, look, the angel appeared to Mary, too. Obviously, angels positively infested Bethlehem, like pantry moths. Big deal.
But for one person in the audience, this will be the first time to hear the story. And if that one person can see a miracle instead of juvenile ennui, we will have succeeded.
It's my job to make sure that they tell the story again for the first time.
I guess it's not too different from my day job.
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