This morning, I was awoken by a little voice singing. “Welcome, welcome. This is our Christmas story.” It was my daughter, gaily lying in bed rehearsing her school song for the forthcoming annual Christmas play. This is what my five-year-old looks forward to all year. If you ask her what she likes most about school, she will speedily reply, “the Christmas show,” and she can barely contain herself in the days leading up to the performance. As parents, we love the play too and I usually end up blubbing into my husband’s sleeve, the minute my child appears dressed up on the stage.
My four-year-old son is also entering the school play scene this year but he takes a different approach to it all. He is pleased to be taking part but, to my relief, is intent on keeping the show a complete surprise. This is impossible for my daughter. Last year, Singing Santa appeared in our house in the middle of November. She rehearsed the song most days leading up to the play. Thankfully, we were given respite when she was at school. However, I soon found myself humming, “Guess what? A baby boy is born,” while pushing my trolley up supermarket aisles. These festive songs have extremely catchy tunes and simple lyrics, to appeal to their small vocalists. Even my husband got hooked and we were subjected to deep renditions of “Santa’s on his sleigh tonight. Way up high, way up high,” bellowing out from the bathroom.
When I was a child, I do not remember singing these catchy little jovial tunes. I remember having to learn, ‘Little Donkey’ ‘Away in a Manger’ and ‘We wish you a Merry Christmas,’ if the school were feeling a little racey that year. The performance was always the nativity play. The story was read out beautifully by the narrator, who was of course our very best reader and learnt by an understudy, the second best reader, should one get a cold. I was always one of those children who was an angel year after year. In fact, usually one of the angels in the back row. I remember my teacher saying to me, when she read out the appointed cast, “Sophie you always make such a good angel.” Yes, I thought, just standing at the back in a white sheet, with the only tiny excitement being the halo, a strand of tinsel hanging around my mouse brown fringe. I used to look longingly at the pretty, little angelic girl who year after year played the part of Mary. She wore a beautiful sky blue dress and got to hold a small doll throughout the play.
Thankfully, there are no auditions for Singing Santas or reindeers. They are just one big merry group singing, “All we need is a place to stay. Please Mr innkee.. (you have to pause, Mummy) ..per what do you say?” as loud as they can. We have mastered the tune, stocked up on packets of tissues and will no doubt be humming it well into 2009.
