Christmas Play of 1969

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CHRISTMAS PLAY OF 1969

  I was the new kid in David Livingston Elementary School's grade three class. The year was 1969, and I was eight years old. Everything was going fine. First report card had been sent home. Every box on the report card was marked VG (very good). My teacher's written comment was; Joel is easily distracted, as well as a distraction to others.

It was early November when our teacher, a nice young lady, I don't recall her name, so I'll refer to her as, Miss Teacher, read aloud to the class the poem, 'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS by: Clement Clarke Moore. She read the entire long version of the poem.

The reason she read this poem in early November was to announce to the class that, our grade three class was going to be performing in our school's Christmas Concert, and we would be presenting the poem, TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, as a play. She went on to say that, we were going to put on the best performance ever, better than any of the other classes. Better than the grades four and five and yes even the grade sixers. She talked, on and on, and on, blah blah blah this, blah blah blah that.
   
The very next day, with about half an hour before final buzzer, Miss Teacher started into it again. This time she began listing all the things that had to be done such as; sets had to be built, props had to be acquired, costumes had to be made, characters had to be assigned, a script had to be written, painting, decorating, invitations, rehearsals, and on and on. Miss Teacher droned, on and on, blah blah blah blah blah, as visions of sugar plums danced in my head.  The buzzer sounded, waking me from a deep daydream sequence, and alerting me to the fact it was at last time to go home.
   
Every day after that, Miss Teacher would at some point halt our regular grade three curriculum, and we would begin working on producing this Christmas play.
   
One day Miss Teacher assigned us all characters from the poem. She wrote the names of all the characters on the blackboard and then beside that character's name, she began writing the name of the student who would play that part.
   
"Who wants to play the role of Santa Claus?" she queried.
   
"Me! Me! Me!" all of the boys, including me, shouted out. We were going nuts, waving our arms in the air like lunatics. She picked the fat kid for Santa. The rest of us let out a collective groan of disappointment.

Then she asked, "Who wants to be one of the eight reindeer?" I had my hand up, but wasn't chosen. "Who wants to be a sugar plum fairy?" was next.
   
"Don't you write my name down for that," I shouted out.
   
Miss Teacher replied, "Don't worry, Joel, I already have a part in mind for you."
 
My thoughts were consumed with wonder. What part could she possibly have in mind for me? Whatever it was, it has to be good. It was obvious to me that I had been hand picked for this part due solely to the fact that, Miss Teacher recognized my superior acting ability, and wanted to maximize the quality of the production, by tapping into my creative genius. I patiently waited as the characters in the play were assigned to the rest of my classmates.

Then Miss Teacher revealed to me the part I would be performing, and so it was determined that, I was going to play the part of... ... ... The mouse. You know the poem right? Not a creature was stirring not even a MOUSE. I was cast in the role of the mouse!
 
Day after day Miss Teacher went on, instructions on this, schedules on that. "Costumes!" she announced loudly, once again disrupting my daydreaming.

"Joel, can you get a mouse costume?"
   
"No, but I can make one. I'm excellent at making costumes," I told her.
     
"Can you get your mother to help with it?"
     
"No, she's pretty busy, she has five other kids, it's not just me, besides, I'm really good at making costumes. You'll see. It'll be great."

Miss Teacher suggested again that I should ask my mom for help with it. I got the impression: she didn't believe that I was as good at making costumes as I had claimed to be. I should have told her that I had made my own clown costume for Halloween just a few weeks ago. I made it out of old clothes right out of our closets at home. I even did my own make-up, using a stick of my mom's lipstick. At each and every door that I trick or treated on, I was greeted with an excited remark, such as; Oh MY! Look at the funny clown!! I probably made the best costume of all Halloweens ever, but I never mentioned any of my costume design experience to her. I decided that Miss Teacher would be all the more impressed with my costume once she sees the finished product.
     
Each day we spent a bit of time working on the production. When we were scripting our actions on stage to sync up with the poem I asked,  "What about me, what do I do?"

"You're the mouse that doesn't stir, you don't do anything," was Miss Teacher's answer.

It took a while for that to sink in, but when it did, I realized my part would not offer much opportunity for me to showcase my acting ability. At that point, I pretty much lost interest in the whole production.

It seemed to me like November passed quickly. Miss Teacher was reminding us that there wasn't very much time left before the Christmas concert, and there was still a lot of work to be done. We still had to build sets and props. We still had to get our costumes completed.

Because, I had pretty much lost interest in the whole project by this point, I had done nothing in the way of making a mouse costume.

During the days of December, our class time spent on the production increased. Miss Teacher would go over her "need to have done list" in class.
We all had things we were responsible for, like props and costumes. One student arranged to have his Uncle come to the school and cut out a plywood sleigh, and a rooftop for the set. The kid who was playing Santa brought in a, 'store bought' Santa suit. It looked real good.

What kind of kid has his own Santa suit?

Other students were involved with; painting the sets, and sleigh as well as pulling on ropes back stage to move Santa, his sleigh and eight tiny reindeer  across the stage as he flew out of sight. There was a lot of activity that seemed to be happening around me, but I didn't take much interest in it, other than to offer suggestions on how to make things better.

My only responsibility was to have a mouse costume ready for the big day.

"How's the mouse costume coming along Joel?" Miss Teacher would ask.

"Good. No problem," I would answer.

With a week to go, we started having afternoon rehearsals on stage in the gym. Our teacher would pace across the stage with a copy of the poem in hand. As she read through it, we would all perform our scripted actions.

This is how it would go...

Miss Teacher would read, Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring... pause... cue mouse... then I'd walk on stage and take my spot, kind of curled up in a little ball to the front left side of the stage.  Then the narration would continue, not even a mouse...

"If I walk out onto the stage, wouldn't that be considered stirring," I asked.

"That's right," Miss Teacher agreed. "Okay, Joel will already be in his place when I start reading. Then when I say the line, not a creature was stirring, we'll spotlight Joel on the stage."

When I heard that, I was instantly excited about the play again. Cool, I thought, I'm going to be spotlighted. Now I'm motivated to make the best mouse costume ever.

My part in the play required that I lay on the stage facing the audience and not stir. Every rehearsal started the same way, with Miss Teacher announcing, "Joel, on your spot. Okay let's start."
I had no involvement at all from that point on.

It was on the second or third rehearsal, I asked if it would be okay if I faced the opposite direction, that way I could watch the rehearsal, as I did not stir. Miss Teacher granted my request reminding me, though, to remember to face the audience when we performed the live production.

I had to lay on the stage from the beginning of the rehearsal  through to the end with out moving a muscle. I got to watch all the goings on - The choreography of the dance of the sugar plum fairies - working out the logistics of getting Santa from out on the front lawn, up to the rooftop, and then for Santa, the sleigh, and the eight tiny reindeer to fly out of sight - The entire production: start to finish.

In all honesty, I don't recall a lot of the details, and although there was a lot of activity, I'll admit to possibly dozing off during a rehearsal or two. The production was shaping up to be quite spectacular.

So I remember thinking to myself, "'Try not to look like you had no idea it was today" when Miss Teacher said, "Today is the big day, dress rehearsal this morning and then the concert this afternoon, everybody get into your costumes, and let's go down to the gym."

"Joel, where is your mouse costume?"

"I forgot it at home," I lied.

"That's okay, Miss Teacher said, make sure you bring it when you return this afternoon after lunch."

During the dress rehearsal, Miss Teacher was all over everyone. " Dance! dance! sugar plum fairies, you have to be jollier Santa! Shake that belly like a bowl full of jelly. Do this, this way! Do that, that way!"

This went on and on and on and on, blah blah blah.

I hurried straight home at the lunch break. My four older siblings attended a different school, and our youngest brother was not yet old enough for school. I had the house to myself during the lunch break, as mom would make that little brother's nap time. It was my favorite part of the day.

As I came through the door Mom called out "what do you want for lunch?" In my family that meant, what flavor of Campbell's soup do you want?

"No time to eat today, I have to make my costume."

"Costume?" Mom inquired.

"Yeah, costume, can I use this cereal box?"

"What do you need a costume for?" Mom asked.

"It's for the play, where's the tinfoil"?

"Play! What play?" Mom asked.

That was her thing, always with the questions.

Mom was starting to get flustered, so... I calmly explained to her, "It's the big Christmas concert at school, it's this afternoon, and I have to make a costume to wear in the production.

"I didn't hear anything about a Christmas concert," my Mom said. "Why wouldn't they have said something sooner?"
 
"I know," I said, "I just found out about it this morning myself, that's why I have to get this costume together now. I need something to make a tail with."
 
I went from room to room gathering all the things I needed to make my costume. I piled all the materials I had gathered on the kitchen table, and began to work. I cut large circles out of the cereal box then covered them entirely with tinfoil, thus completing the ears. I used a pair of my sister's brown leotards to make my tail by stuffing one leg with T-shirts and tying the other leg around my waste, my tail was then taken care of. For the nose, I attached rubber bands to a toilet paper roll, which I then covered with tinfoil. Next, I made whiskers by rolling ten-inch lengths of tinfoil into silvery rope. Everything was brought together by wearing a brown turtleneck sweater and brown pants.

The only thing left for me to do in order to  complete my mouse costume, was to figure out how to attach the mouse ears to my head and the tinfoil nose to my face. I stretched the rubber bands around my head so that my tinfoil covered toilet roll nose was firmly in place over my actual nose. I tucked a few whiskers under the toilet roll. Two thick rubber bands were pretty much stretched around my head. It was a bit painful, and I'm sure I cut off the blood flow to my brain, but the show must go on. Lastly, I tried to attach my tinfoil ears by utilizing the rubber bands stretched across my cheeks. When I did this, my tinfoil covered toilet roll nose failed. My tinfoil nose collapsed as I stretched a rubber band in order to place a tinfoil ear. I tried to save it, but a rubber band snapped and it became obvious I had to re-plan my plan. Good thing too, because I was just about to pass out from the rubber bands being stretched around my head. I tossed the toilet paper roll nose and fashioned one out of a large sheet tinfoil rolled into a cone. Time was running down. I went and changed into my brown shirt and pants. The rest of the costume would have to come together.
I was pretty pleased with it so far and confident that the the whole thing would come together somehow.

The tinfoil would sparkle and shine in the spotlight.

l'll probably be the star of the whole concert.

Dazzling, I thought to myself.

"Mom, I need some gum, so I can attach my nose."

"What on earth is that?" mom asked.

"It's my costume for the play."

"What are you supposed to be?"

"A mouse! See? Here's my tail, those are the ears, and this is the nose. I'm not sure how I'm going to attach the ears to my head, but I can just push the nose on like this, if I had some gum," I explained.

Mom went on... "Well, I don't have any gum. You kids go through my purse and take all my gum. I can't have gum or peppermints in my purse without you kids taking it all, and now I have to even hide my lipstick. Get your teacher to help you with your costume. You better get going or you'll be late for school. I wasted a can of soup cooking for you. I can't believe you didn't even eat your lunch. I give up! They have a concert and don't tell anybody until the day of the concert? I can't believe they would do that. What's the matter with people? Why would they have a concert in the afternoon? Doesn't anybody in this neighborhood work? Are they stupid? What's the matter with people? What am I going to do with all of this soup now? Get going, or you'll be late. You used all of my tinfoil. Now I have to buy more tinfoil. You kids think I'm made of money, and don't you forget to bring your sister's leotards back. Look at all the mess you made on the kitchen table!"

Mom was still ranting while I was half way down the block.

When I arrived back at school our teacher had the costumed students lined up, and was fussing with their costumes. She was fitting antlers on some poor kid's head, when she spotted me.

"Where's your costume," she snapped at me.

"It's in the bag," I held it up triumphantly.

"Go put it on. Hurry up." she added.

The classroom had a - cloak room? - Coke room? - coat room? - coltrume? I was never quite sure what they called that area. The only time I ever heard the word said  in a sentence was when a teacher would say, "Joel, go sit in the cloak room? - coat room? - Coke room? - coltrume?. I somehow knew where to go sit, I just didn't know what word was said. It was usually spoken in a higher pitched voice and at an increased volume. I also knew instinctively, it wasn't a good time to ask, " how do you pronounce the name of that room?"

As luck would have it, I found a black head band in the "C" room. I'll use it to attach my ears somehow. I was already wearing the shirt and pants, so I just had to tie my tail in place and attach the ears to the head band. That being done, the last thing to do was to find a way for the nose and whiskers to stay in place.

"Ask your teacher to help you," was what Mom said, so... I walked out into the classroom to ask.

"I need a little help with getting my nose and whiskers to stay in place," I almost had to shout to be heard.

Miss Teacher was hollering, "No - no -  no - no - no!"

I quickly searched the room to see what it was that had disturbed her so. I don't see anything going on that would upset her. Everything checks out. I look back at Miss Teacher, but, she's already on top of me.

"What is that!" she shrieked.

" M m me?... M ... m ... my mouse cost..." I started, but she just went back to hollering.

"No -no - no - no, this isn't happening, we have less than five minutes, no - no - no - no - no."

I took a step back and with the ears in one hand and the nose in the other, I held them in place as to demonstrate, "see! A mouse." I added a little "eek -eek," to sell the whole concept.

Then as fast as she was upon me, she was gone.

Miss Teacher was flying through the supply cupboard pulling out paper and tape, her hands were a blur. She called me over. When I got there, she started wrapping paper around my head, then she began cutting paper. As She worked she was muttering, "who ever heard of a mouse with silver ears. We have to be on stage in less than five minutes. I can't believe this." In seven seconds she had the ears done and attached.

Next Miss Teacher asked me a question that made me think she had lost her mind. She asked, "where is the rest of your costume?"

"It's all here," I said calmly, the way you would respond to a suicidal bridge jumper.

"No - no - no - no - no!  Where is your mouse suit? You should be wearing a mouse suit."

"I am," I answered. Adding a self displaying gesture to attract her eyes to my completely brown attire.

"No - no - no - no - no! You should be wearing a mouse suit; gray; with a tail."

"Well I'm a brown mouse, and here's my tail." Then I proudly held up my T-shirt stuffed leotard tail.

There was a knock at the door. The door popped open a crack and someone said, "we need you all on stage, it's show time."

Seconds later, Miss Teacher has us all walking down the hallway towards the gym. Miss Teacher is making and dressing me in her mouse creation as we  walk. She's pressing tape onto my face trying to attach the nose she had remade. She wasn't even looking at me, as she pressed tape into my eyes. She didn't seem to  care that I couldn't see. Miss Teacher grabbed hold of my hand and half-guided, half-dragged me to my spot on stage, where my nose promptly fell off. I picked up the nose and handed it up to Miss Teacher.

My nose fell off, "ppppffft, ppppft" blowing dangling strips of tape, which was now hanging down from my eye sockets.

Miss Teacher yanked the tape from my face and handed me back the nose and hissed, "Just hold it in place with your hand, we have to start." As she walked away I heard her mutter. "I've never heard of a brown mouse." Just then the curtain began to open.

Miss Teacher began ....Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house ...

I was trying to adjust my vision to the low light. I held my eyes open as wide as I could and still couldn't see a thing.

Not creature was stirring, not even a mouse...

Just then BAM!  I was blinded by this, brighter than the surface of the sun, spot light. I held my eyes shut tightly and tried my best not to stir. Crap I dropped my nose I gathered it up quickly and held it back in place. There was a sound of muffled laughter. I laid there with my eyes closed, not stirring. Something funny must have happened, but I couldn't see what.

I was a bit disappointed that my tin foil creation didn't make it to the stage. Oh how the light would have been reflected back into the audience, for all to rejoice in it's splendor.

The show must go on, and so it did. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care...

During all the rehearsals I was able to watch all the action as Miss Teacher read through the poem, but today I was facing the audience with my eyes closed and all of the action went on behind me. Still I wanted to see what was going on. I attempted to open my eyes a couple of times but the spotlight was blinding and painful, so I kept my eyes shut.

I formulated a plan, to enable me to see, as I laid there not stirring. I would shade my eyes with my left hand, which was currently holding my nose on my face, then quickly employ my right hand to hold my nose in place. Okay 1- 2- 3 switch.

Now with my hand shading my eyes I was slowly able to open my eyes. There was another outburst of muffled laughter. Something must have went on behind me again.

Soon I was able to regain my vision and focus. I was shocked to find the gym was full of people. Not just students but actually real people. Was my Mom right? Doesn't anybody in this neighborhood work?

Miss Teacher plowed through the poem, In hopes that St.Nicholas soon would be there...

It was killing me not to see the action on stage. I stirred  just a bit, just enough to turn my head to see behind me. The sugar plum fairies were dancing their collective hearts out. That's when I noticed that my tail was lying behind me, out of sight of the audience. I would have to fix that. I moved quickly so that nobody would notice that I stirred. I reached back and pulled my tail up towards my face. I totally screwed the move up. I let my nose fall off again and whacked it a couple feet away with my tail which I pulled too hard.

Another outburst of muffled laughter from the audience.

After I shoved the nose back in front of my face, I glanced over at Miss Teacher. She was glaring right at me, but still reading through the poem.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter...

The show must go on. I stirred. I figured it was okay, there was still a lot of poem to go. I would be extra still from here on.

Soon it occurred to me that Miss Teacher forgot to re-make my whiskers. I felt bad about that. It was as if the audience was being cheated. I was watching to see if Miss Teacher would look my way again. I was going to mouth the words "you forgot my whiskers". When she did finally looked my way, it was only to flash me another angry glare. I decided it was best to just not stir. I closed my eyes again.

Laying on stage motionless with my eyes closed I listened to Miss teacher read through the poem and soon I drifted off to sleep.

The next thing I knew the audience was applauding and we were being directed to line up on stage and take a bow.
   
My nose was laying on the stage next to a small puddle of drool.

Our entire cast was supposed to yell the last two lines of the poem. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight.
   
I missed that part.

I picked up my nose as I stood up to take a bow, at the same time wiping the puddle of drool by spreading it with my foot.

Our play was a success.

A classmate and friend of mine named Joyce, asked me as we walked home together that afternoon, "were your Mom and Dad at the Christmas concert?"

"No, my Dad works, and my Mom didn't even know about it."

Then Joyce asked, "didn't you give her one of the invitations we made?"

Instantly I recalled my uncompleted invitations. I had tucked them away inside my cluttered desk drawer a month or so ago, and had forgotten all about them until now.

"Yes Joyce... Yes, of course I did."

                                                       
                                                      and
                                                    Joyce
                                                smiled at me
                                            as she walked up 
                                                to her house.
                                          Merry Christmas Joel
                                    you were a real cute mouse.