Last Sunday, we sang our Christmas cantata with several other church choirs at a local historic landmark, the first church west of the Mississippi. Before we started, I decided to avail myself of the facilities. Just as I walked past the soundboard, two little boys asked where the bathroom is. The guy working sound had things to get done but seemed reluctant to let the pair go back alone so I volunteered to escort them, all the while wondering — Why me?
Since there was a line, I got to spend several minutes answering questions about all things Catholic. I know Lori is laughing at this because I’m 100% Presbyterian. I’ve picked up a wee bit of Catholic knowledge from her over the years but a wee bit isn’t all that much if the questions get too deep. Fortunately, these were pretty basic if a bit rapid fire.
Them: What’s this thing on a chain?
Me: That’s for incense.
Them: Look at that little door way over there. Why can’t we open it?
Me: There’s a lock. See?
Them: What’s in there anyway?
Me: The priest puts . . . .
Them: “You’re sure we can’t open it? Cause I could crawl under that and get to it.”
We decided to let them cut in line so that we could return them to Grandma. After they scampered off to squeeze past the sound board and to the sanctuary, I turned around. Hey! What’s through that open door? Ooo, dozens of labeled drawers in front of a spiral staircase going up above the sanctuary.
I turned around to see one of the men from the Baptist choir laughing. Maybe I wasn’t there to keep the kids out of trouble as much as they were there to keep me out of trouble? I was definitely too focused to get nosey. It may not have been entirely voluntary, but with some help, I was on my best Christmas behavior.
Stay out of trouble, and may you all have a Blessed Christmas celebrating the coming of Christ!