Catherine Nicolette:
SO it is Christmas once again. The shops are aglow with light, laughter, music, Christmas baubles, fake trees, glitter, cakes, food and bustle. I must say, I thoroughly enjoy all the camaraderie of this time of year.
Welkom Carols by Candlelight
I was paging through old photo albums and newspaper clippings from yesteryear, when I came across an old newspaper article from the "Carols by Candlelight". This was a Nativity play which was held in Welkom every year, during which the audience provided light by means of candles. The photo accompanying the article showed our inspirational producer next to myself dressed as Mother Mary, and various members of the cast dressed as St Joseph and shepherds.
Useless actor
I smiled as I remembered the year I was cast as the innkeeper's wife. I had originally been cast as King Herod; that year there were a lot of sport games going on, which took a number of our male leads away. In desperation, the producer thought that I would be good in the role as the King.
Three practices after being bellowed at by the co-producer, I was kicked out of the role as a useless actor because I did not have a manly enough stance. The producer apparently thought I would be very upset, and came backstage to comfort me. I could not tell her that secretly I was very relieved. I did not particularly want to have a manly stance.
There is no room
Thereafter I was cast as the innkeeper's wife. This should have been easy: however, I covered myself in disgrace. That year, Carols by Candlelight had a real donkey in the stadium for the Nativity play. The donkey was a sweet animal from one of the neighbouring farm-plots. He was not worried by crowds at all, and patiently carried the actress playing Mother Mary upon his back.
At the practices, the donkey clopped on the concrete flooring of the stadium, which at other times served as the the local roller-skating rink. The actress playing Mother Mary sat on the donkey with the young man taking the part of St Joseph leading the animal by the reins.
The actor playing Joseph looked deeply worried as he pleaded for a place to stay for his wife who was in labour. The acting was so good that it was almost as if I were transported back in time to the first Christmas.
The lad playing the innkeeper was masterful in his role, majestically waving Joseph away from the door as he told him in ringing tones, "There is no room in the inn!" Once more, Joseph pleaded for clemency and for a place for his wife to have her baby in safety.
Desperately I clutched the back of my actor-husband's shirt, saying, "No, no! There is room!" The lad turned back to me, perplexed. Gamely he remained in character, and said to me, "There is no room." I replied, "But there is!" Sweating slightly under the outraged eyes of the co-producer, the innkeeper improvised, "All the rooms are full."
By this time, we had wildly gone off-script, and as I opened my mouth to remonstrate, he said, "Even the dining-hall has people with pallets on the floor. Our inn is full!"
As I looked upon sweet Mother Mary's face, I was struck with a moment of brilliance. Once more, I clutched my actor-husband's sleeve. "No, it's not," I answered in clarion tones, "there is one room!"
By now the lad was resigned. He simply stared at me. I said, "She can have my bed!" The cast collapsed in gales of laughter, the co-producer roared in frustration, and the donkey and lady in blue and white, and her husband in brown and cream clothes, stood quietly looking at me.
Don't let her speak
I could not be kicked out of my role because they had no-one else to replace me. On the three nights of the play, rows of seats around the stadium twinkled with candles as the audience held their melting wax with cardboard sleeves and sang carols from carol-sheets. Overhead, the stars gazed on us. The weather was mild and perfect, and even the wind did not blow out the candles.
We were all in our Israelite clothing from the time of Christ. Before the Nativity play began, the co-producer told the innkeeper to keep me under control. "For heaven's sake, if she opens her mouth, just don't let her speak," he begged.
When Mary piteously looked at me from the donkey, gripping her abdomen, and Joseph pleaded for help, I couldn't help myself. "There is . . . " I began. Before I could complete the sentence, "... room for you," the innkeeper hastily pulled me by the back of my robe and pushed me behind him, hissing from the side of his mouth, "For pity's sake, be quiet."
"There is no room in the inn," he intoned loudly, then quietly told the actor playing Joseph, "Get away quickly before she tells you to come in." Joseph went away, and I burst into tears as I watched the sad actor lead Mother Mary and the unborn Babe away from our inn where we could have offered comfort in their plight.
The rest of the play went perfectly. Afterwards, some members of the audience told me how well I had acted. However, they were slightly puzzled because I had wept so piteously. "I can't remember the Bible saying the innkeeper's wife cried," one lady said to me.My eyes swollen and red and I was heartbroken at how the poor Holy Family had been turned away.
After repeated curtain calls, we all prepared to go home. The lovely actress who had played Mother Mary came with the realistic swaddled doll which she had carried as the Baby Jesus, to talk to me. "I know you got into trouble for not sticking to the script," she said to me. "But I'll tell you one thing: when I looked at you from where I was sitting on the donkey, I said to myself, if I were really Mother Mary and needed a place to stay, I know you would have made sure I got one."
So that is Christmas. Tears and joy: happiness and pain. That, too, is life.
So many years ago we sang Carols by Candlelight, yet the lesson I learned in my young years was that we all have a choice.
The Christmas question is: Do you have room in the inn of your heart for Jesus?
https://lumierecharity.blogspot.com/2025/12/a-christmas-choice-is-there-room-in-inn.html
Image "The Christmas Choice" designed by Chatgpt
