The Story of the Christmas Eve Service

There are two Christmas Eve services at our church, and while I’ve never actually gone to the second, later service because I’ve always had little people with me, the first service in the afternoon is always packed to the brim.  This means, to find a seat, plan to arrive early.  By some strange way, we actually managed to get everyone out the door on schedule and arrived with plenty of time to pick a pew.

On a normal Sunday, the three biggest kidlets come to the worship service, while Mr. TOF spends time in the nursery, a place he absolutely adores. He plays away and does age appropriate activities with some amazing child care workers which allows the rest of us to actually pay attention to what is happening in the service. I am hugely blessed by the childcare at our church.  On Christmas Eve, there is no childcare, which is also fine, because that means that families are all together for a worship service “designed with children in mind.”  Hence, Mr. TOF was excited to join us in the pew for Christmas Eve.

Mr. TOF is a great kid.  He also has a fair amount of energy, as did all sorts of kids of all sorts of ages at the Christmas Eve service.  There were many bouncing little people dispersed all throughout the sanctuary, which is part of the fun of Christmas Eve.

Right away Mr. TOF recognized the song “Angels we have Heart on High.”  In Sunday School we had been learning about the word “Gloria’ while we sang this song together, and although he doesn’t really catch any of the consonants in the word “Gloria,” he was more than thrilled to loudly sing all the vowels in that wonderful word.  He knew that we were singing about Baby Jesus, too, and kept signing “baby” with great determination.

Baby Jesus reminded Mr. TOF of Baby Katherine, who was napping at home during the Christmas Eve service.  Mr. TOF fervently inquired of her whereabouts, signing “baby” and loudly asking, “Kuh Kuh Kuh Kuh KUH?”

“She’s at home.  She’s sleeping.”

“Huh?”

“Baby Kuh is at home with Auntie Dot.  She’s sleeping,” I whispered.

“Huh?  Huh?”

“She’s resting.”

“Huh?  Huh?  HUH????????”

Oh the poor family in front of us.  At least they had 5 kids too.

After singing a couple more Christmas carols, a kind man from our church was up front reading the Christmas story from Luke 2.  Mr. TOF knew that the man was talking about God.  He recognized Mary and Joseph and Baby Jesus in the story.  Mr. TOF happens to love praying at the table, and that’s exactly what he assumed we were doing.  He folded his hands very nicely and waited for the “Amean,”  which is how he pronounces “amen.”  Mr. TOF loves the “Amean” part of praying.  But of course, this wasn’t a prayer.  The man kept talking.

“Amean,”  said Mr. TOF.  Pause.  Pause.  “Amean.”  Pause.  Pause. A little bit louder, “Amean!”  Pause Pause.  “Amean!”  He looks over at me, curious.  “Amean?  Amean?”  Pause.  Pause.  Then, as loud as he could, in what was only the beginning of the middle of the Christmas story, “AMEAN!”

By this time our whole family had a case of the serious giggles.

After a few more carols, Mr. TOF was a bit restless.  He was up on my lap.  He was down on the floor.  He stacked all the hymnals in our pew on my lap.  He put the hymnals on the pew and climbed up on my lap and put the hymnals in his lap.  He tried to steal his brother’s clipboard and pencil.  To distract him, I pointed to the front of the church and whispered, “Do you see the Christmas trees?”

“Huh?”

“The Christmas trees?  Can you find a tree?”

“HUH?!?”

The graphic on the projection screen in the front of the church changed to show a pile of hay.  “Do you see the hay?  In the barn?  Look for the hay.”

“Huh?”

“Where is the hay?”

“Huh?”

“Look up there.  Do you see the hay?”

“HUH?  HUH?  HUH?”

It was wonderful having Mr. TOF in the pew with us, great to be all together as a family, but after the Christmas Eve service was finished, I was utterly exhausted, and I remain even more grateful for the work of the childcare staff at our church who make regular Sundays possible.