When my son was born, he came close to being cast as Baby Jesus. But it was thankfully decided that he might squirm too much. The next two years, he starred as a lamb - specifically, the one lamb that gets lost and the shepherd must leave the other 99 to find.

This year, he graduated from lamb to little angel. I stated that this was more than a little miscasting, but perhaps the horns would hold up the halo. A few got the joke. It was a tough room - full of small children wrestling with their costumes, dueling with shepherds' staffs and a few older kids practicing musical accompaniment.

My son was one of four little angels. What do you call a bunch of angels? A flock? A gaggle? Their job was to say, "Glory to God in the highest, on earth, peace, goodwill toward men." Well, not only did my son have a 10 percent change of remembering that, but I wanted it to be "goodwill toward people" or something less gender-specific. But I didn't say anything. I do have tact. Really. Afterward, the little angels were to present candy-canes to the shepherds (a verse I missed in my reading of the Nativity - perhaps it was in the Gospel of St. Nestle) and proceed to Bethlehem to stand there and look cute.

Right before the pageant, my son managed to break his halo (a headband with a huge circle of tinsel suspended above it). Thank God for prepared people - they had a spare. Really, what were the odds? I may have a spare dime, even a spare pen. I could use a spare halo from time to time - mine's a tad rusty. 

The kid reading the words of the prophets was dressed in an adorable Middle Eastern-style robe and veil with the world's funniest Santa beard. You had to see it to believe it. I suppose by the time the Homeland Security Department is done, we'll have to change the costume to something more Anglo-Saxon or we'll all be put under surveillance. But for now, it's absolutely hilarious.

We got through the breathless annunciation and Mary and Joseph's ten-foot trek to Bethlehem. We had a mixed-race Mary and Joseph this year - Mary was a blond Caucasian and Joseph was Hispanic. The Archangel Gabriel was black, at least three races were represented by the shepherds and King Herod was a girl with Down's Syndrome. The World Church of the Creator just went screaming into the night.

Then it came time for the heavenly host. The little angels appeared over the shepherds - without my son. He ran back to me in the audience and said, "Come on, Mommy!" and tried to drag me onstage. 

Roars of laughter from the audience. Thanks, guys. See if I host coffee hour next year.

I tried to get him to walk with the angels - don't we always? - but by the time he got up to the glade scene, the shepherds and little angels had proceeded to Bethlehem. So he just wandered around the stage, a stray (fallen?) angel. This was met by great amusement from the crowd. 

Meanwhile, the toddler who replaced the Kiddo as the one and only lamb had removed the doll playing Baby Jesus from the manger. Five shepherds and one lamb. They must have a union. Anyway, someone had forgotten to put swaddling clothes on the doll, so Jesus was stark naked. One of the shepherds helpfully took Jesus away from the lamb and put it back in the manger.

Instant tears from the lamb.

Meanwhile, another shepherd corralled the Kiddo back with the rest of the angels and stashed him in a chair so he'd sit still. Of course, the practical effect was that he disappeared from view behind Joseph, who had a great deer-in-the-headlights look. You've got to love those shepherds - they keep everything moving.

Enter the Three Wise Guys, in full traditional African garb donated by a parishioner. It's the sole touch of authenticity, and I must digress beyond the pageant to say that authentic-looking nativity scenes are rather hard to find, pageant or no. I've spent the last several years searching for a ceramic nativity in which Mary and Joseph look remotely Jewish or Middle Eastern. I can't get my mind around a blond Mary, boys. So far, no dice.

Anyway, back to the pageant. The Wise Guys were accompanied by a camel - that is, two older kids in a camel suit, swinging a long camel-head on a stick. The hit of the pageant. The kids inside the camel suit couldn't see a thing, so one of the Wise Guys had to lead them down the aisle to King Herod, nearly blinded by the flashes of automatic cameras and the three parents bravely videotaping from the back.

At long last, we came to the final scene. The lamb was soothed by her mother and returned to the shepherds. My fallen angel was still sitting and we couldn't see him, but at least he wasn't shaking the fake palm trees to see if they fall over like he did during dress rehearsal. 

The kids sang "Joy to the World," and the camel started a Chorus-Line-style kickdance. There are no words. The visuals are great until the camel's head accidentally smacks into King Herod, who stumbles, rights herself (yes, herself, we don't have enough boys in our church) and takes a bow. Now that's a trooper. Laughter and applause.

The moral of this story is threefold: always have someone to shepherd the angels, remember to swaddle baby Jesus in case the lamb wants a dolly, and laughter is the best celebration of Christ's birth. I imagine he could hear us laughing in heaven.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.