was allowed to participate. Her voice was a melody that rang clear and true when she sang, and I understood at once why Nurse Wimble had been so quick to give in to her demand.
When her song was finished, the fabled shepherds came to see the infant, and everyone on stage joined them in singing “Away in a Manger.” During that song Katrina reached up and grabbed hold of my arm. I think she was crying when the words of one verse said, “Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care, and fit us for Heaven to live with Thee there.” And I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I might have been crying then too as I thought about Katrina and some of the other children at the hospital who would probably see heaven long before me.
One of the final songs of the Christmas pageant was “We Three Kings.” I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw the lanky fourth wise man rumble onto the stage, his gold and purple crown hanging slightly askew on his narrow head, and his wide grin beaming from ear to ear. The song was about three wise men, not four, which is probably why Nurse Wimble had been so opposed to adding Madhu in the first place. At the end of the song, the wise men each presented their gifts as they bowed before Joseph, Mary, and the new Christ child.
The tallest of the wise men, who carried a leather pouch, was the first of the bunch to speak. “The gift I bring is gold—truly a gift fit for a king.”
Then the second wise man stepped forward and bowed. “I, too, bring a gift worthy of the Lord. Frankincense, from my home in the east.” Stepping back, he made room for the third wise man to approach the manger.
“I come from afar to see the Messiah. I bring him myrrh, the most precious gift of my country.” That particular wise man was played by a girl, but it didn’t seem to matter.
When it was Madhu’s turn to step forward and present his gift, for some reason he didn’t do anything at all. He just stood frozen in place holding the wooden box, his eyes riveted on the baby lying in the manger. The third wise man backed up a few paces and elbowed him in the ribs. Madhu jerked a little bit and snapped back from wherever his mind had wandered, but instead of approaching the manger, he turned and faced the audience.
“I, too, come from the east,” he said.
I had never heard Madhu speak so slowly. Every word came out clear and measured.
“I was born in India and do not know much of your religion. I do not know if this child is the Savior. But from what I have read he is certainly a great prophet. He will be worshipped by many as the very Son of God.”
The auditorium was deathly silent as he spoke. From where I stood huddled with the angels, I could see that Nurse Wimble was slouching in her seat, her hands completely covering her face, which was now flushed bright red.
“I have read from the Bible,” he continued, “of the things he will do and the things he will teach when he gets older. Surely this young child is destined for greatness and worthy of the world’s greatest gifts. But,” he paused, letting the word hang in the air for several seconds. “I have no such gift to bring him.”
There was a collective gasp through the room as Madhu opened up an empty box. Then he began speaking again.
“One day, this child will tell those who follow him, ‘If ye love me, keep my commandments.’ And what will he command them? ‘This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you.’ If this is truly the Son of God, then there is no worldly gift that he needs. He does not ask for gold, or wealth, or money. He asks only that we love others. And so, that will be my gift to him. I will try harder to love everyone, regardless of who they are or what they look like.” Madhu turned slightly to the left and smiled directly at Katrina, then went on speaking. “And I will try to overlook the few things that make us different and focus instead on the many things that make us all the
When her song was finished, the fabled shepherds came to see the infant, and everyone on stage joined them in singing “Away in a Manger.” During that song Katrina reached up and grabbed hold of my arm. I think she was crying when the words of one verse said, “Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care, and fit us for Heaven to live with Thee there.” And I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I might have been crying then too as I thought about Katrina and some of the other children at the hospital who would probably see heaven long before me.
One of the final songs of the Christmas pageant was “We Three Kings.” I couldn’t help but laugh when I saw the lanky fourth wise man rumble onto the stage, his gold and purple crown hanging slightly askew on his narrow head, and his wide grin beaming from ear to ear. The song was about three wise men, not four, which is probably why Nurse Wimble had been so opposed to adding Madhu in the first place. At the end of the song, the wise men each presented their gifts as they bowed before Joseph, Mary, and the new Christ child.
The tallest of the wise men, who carried a leather pouch, was the first of the bunch to speak. “The gift I bring is gold—truly a gift fit for a king.”
Then the second wise man stepped forward and bowed. “I, too, bring a gift worthy of the Lord. Frankincense, from my home in the east.” Stepping back, he made room for the third wise man to approach the manger.
“I come from afar to see the Messiah. I bring him myrrh, the most precious gift of my country.” That particular wise man was played by a girl, but it didn’t seem to matter.
When it was Madhu’s turn to step forward and present his gift, for some reason he didn’t do anything at all. He just stood frozen in place holding the wooden box, his eyes riveted on the baby lying in the manger. The third wise man backed up a few paces and elbowed him in the ribs. Madhu jerked a little bit and snapped back from wherever his mind had wandered, but instead of approaching the manger, he turned and faced the audience.
“I, too, come from the east,” he said.
I had never heard Madhu speak so slowly. Every word came out clear and measured.
“I was born in India and do not know much of your religion. I do not know if this child is the Savior. But from what I have read he is certainly a great prophet. He will be worshipped by many as the very Son of God.”
The auditorium was deathly silent as he spoke. From where I stood huddled with the angels, I could see that Nurse Wimble was slouching in her seat, her hands completely covering her face, which was now flushed bright red.
“I have read from the Bible,” he continued, “of the things he will do and the things he will teach when he gets older. Surely this young child is destined for greatness and worthy of the world’s greatest gifts. But,” he paused, letting the word hang in the air for several seconds. “I have no such gift to bring him.”
There was a collective gasp through the room as Madhu opened up an empty box. Then he began speaking again.
“One day, this child will tell those who follow him, ‘If ye love me, keep my commandments.’ And what will he command them? ‘This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you.’ If this is truly the Son of God, then there is no worldly gift that he needs. He does not ask for gold, or wealth, or money. He asks only that we love others. And so, that will be my gift to him. I will try harder to love everyone, regardless of who they are or what they look like.” Madhu turned slightly to the left and smiled directly at Katrina, then went on speaking. “And I will try to overlook the few things that make us different and focus instead on the many things that make us all the
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