Mike Woolley
Carlton and Gedling u3a
East Midlands region
The Unexpected Star of the Show
“No, Philip, you’re the third King so you can’t have a stick like Anthony. And Anthony, can you stop attacking Philip please - that’s a Shepherd’s crook for herding sheep; it’s not a Star Wars light sabre!”
The dress rehearsal for the Tarsham Village Primary School nativity play was well under way; and so was Miss Sims’ headache. The annual performance was a nightmare to organise and no matter how much she planned there was always something unexpected on the day. Miss Sims surveyed what was fast becoming mayhem on stage. At the back she spotted young Arthur sitting in his wheelchair with a book on his lap, observing everything but clearly not part of it. Miss Sims tried very hard to include every child in some role or other, even if it were standing at the back as a palm tree. The one little boy she’d had difficulty casting this year was Arthur Timmins. A sweet, quiet boy; he had a form of paraplegia and spent most of the time in his motorised wheelchair. It seemed wrong to dress him up as a snowflake or a mouse, so she had given him the job of narrator but he only had one line at the beginning and somehow she wished he could be more involved. His parents were lovely people: hard-working - they owned a small shop in the village selling electrical goods.
Anthony, clad in belted sackcloth with a tea towel on his head, wielded the shepherd’s crook in front of Arthur who smiled weakly.
“What are you supposed to be Arthur? If I can be Luke Skywalker then you could be R2D2.” And Anthony made a sound as if to mimic the noise of Arthur’s motorised wheelchair, running off to terrorise Joseph and Mary. Arthur just looked at his feet on the step of the wheelchair and closed the book on his lap. There was no more need of it; he had read his one line long ago. Miss Sims shook her head.
There was a clatter from behind the scenery at the back of the stage and Miss Sims scurried up the steps to see old Mr Worthington, the caretaker, sitting on the floor in his blue overalls rubbing his head. By his side was a large silver star made out of cardboard, now somewhat bent.
“What on earth are you doing?”
“I’m just fixing the Star of Bethlehem up there,” he said, pointing upwards, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But I think I’ll get a bigger ladder.”
“Yes, Mr Worthington. Thank you.”
Miss Sims sighed. It was not only the children she had to worry about! When he wasn’t walking his Irish wolfhound Paddy, Mr Worthington could turn his hand to most things, especially if it involved woodwork. But he came from an era before the term “Health and Safety” had entered the vocabulary.
She looked around and saw that Arthur had come to see what was going on behind the backdrop.
“Is that the star in the East, Miss?” he said quietly.
“Yes, Arthur. When the Wise Men saw it they knew that Jesus was expected.”
Arthur frowned, and moved his chair slightly.
“I think I could make one better than that - with my Dad’s help.”
Miss Sims picked up the rather pathetic cardboard star, then looked at Arthur thoughtfully. “Do you know Arthur – I think you could.” She had a word with Mr Worthington when he returned and soon the banging and sawing from backstage was louder than the combined cacophony rising from the collection of donkeys, sheep, wise men, shepherds, angels, Mary, Joseph and of course Luke Skywalker alias Anthony.
Anthony was now threatening Angel Gabriel with his light sabre - err-r-r crook – to the extent that Miss Sims decided that it might be prudent to call it a day before Angel Gabriel’s foil-covered cardboard wings were damaged beyond repair. Parents were arriving anyway to take their little darlings home, and she soon caught sight of Arthur’s father who had come to collect him. She went over and as he listened intently to Miss Sims, a smile played on his lips and he looked down at his young son’s eager face.
“Yes, I think we could do something along those lines Miss Sims,” he mused. “Leave it with me.”
In the hall at Tarsham Village Primary School there was a buzz of parental and grand-parental excitement and expectation. Everybody sat on the tiny chairs built for five year olds, with their knees angling towards their chins and uncomfortably close to the person next to them. But nobody minded. It was the cause of much laughter, especially when Anthony’s rather corpulent granddad decided he would have to occupy two chairs.
Miss Sims was sitting at the piano just below and to the side of the stage. With an encouraging smile to the children gathered in the wings ready to go on stage, she began to play “Silent Night” and a hush descended on the hall. This was followed by ”Little Donkey” and “O Little Town of Bethlehem”. And thus the scene was set with Mary and Joseph walking slowly from the back of the hall, Joseph holding a long staff (alias a broom handle) with the exaggerated weariness of a seven year old imitating an adult. The “donkey” was Mr Worthington’s dog Paddy, suitably adorned with long ears. Mr Worthington whisked him away as they reached the stage. Last year Paddy had unexpectedly “watered” one of the palm trees (alias a distraught Sally Longbottom).
Miss Sims continued with “While Shepherds watched..”, a little apprehensive as Anthony, brandishing his Shepherd’s crook, appeared on stage grinning from ear to ear as he spotted his grandfather, thumbs up, in the audience.
“We were all SORE,” he shouted, pausing, to much amusement “AFRAID!”
And he thrust the crook forwards in true Skywalker fashion and in doing so inadvertently bent one of the Angel Gabriel’s wings. She was not amused, and if looks could kill… The audience loved it of course, responding with muffled suppressed laughter.
Miss Sims began to play “We Three Kings..” and as everyone joined in, the “Wise Men” in colourful red velvet cloaks began their procession from the back of the hall, each reverently holding a box-like container in both hands. For all that the boxes were covered in bright paper, they retained their unmistakable form first given them in the Tupperware factory.
Philip, as third King, still smarting from having been denied possession of a “stick”, and wanting to get all this over rather quickly, stumbled when he caught the long cloak with his foot and hurtled forwards, delivering his line in the process in a somewhat shortened version like a machine gun:
“Where is he? We saw the star in the East.. worship him”
At this point, Miss Sims moved seamlessly from playing “We Three Kings” to “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” and then back to the chorus of “We Three Kings”. This was Arthur’s moment, and she strained to see the rear of the stage over the piano. The Kings had arrived and everyone on the stage, including Mary and Joseph turned to look at the backdrop where Mr Worthington had built a ramp leading to a wide platform high above the stage. It was all disguised with deep blue paint, representing the night. The lights were dimmed and the audience joined in with the lines: “Star of Wonder, star of night, star with royal beauty bright…”
From the wings, Arthur glided on to the stage and began the climb up the purpose-built ramp. But the audience could only see a huge star moving smoothly higher and higher. The star was attached to the side of the wheelchair and wired to the battery, and was covered in bright LED lights which grew in intensity as more switched on. In the gloom of the hall the bright star gracefully rising upwards was mesmerising.
“Westward leading, still proceeding, guide us with thy perfect light”.
The audience burst into spontaneous applause and the play came to an end with the Kings delivering their gifts: gold, frankincense, myrrh; the light from Arthur’s star providing the main illumination to the scene.
Afterwards, all the players: shepherds, kings, angels all crowded around Arthur in his star vehicle, chattering, excited, happy that Christmas was just around the corner. Anthony even let Arthur hold his light sabre, and he promised that when he got the real thing from Santa at Christmas he would come round and they could play at Star Wars together. Arthur was beaming; and Miss Sims could not remember when she had last seen him so happy.
She walked over to them, holding a tray full of mince pies which she distributed to squeals of delight from the children. As she offered one to Arthur, she smiled.
“Thank you, Arthur. You really were the star of the show!”