Shepherd No. 2 - The Nativity Strikes Back

This morning it was the Nursery's turn to grace the stage.  For me that meant another trip to school to see my second little shepherd in his first nativity.

To be honest - my expectations were not high.  I knew that having seen Year One's Magnum Opus last week, and the glory of Joel's singing, I knew that Nursery - bless them - weren't going to compete in skill or finesse.  In fact, I was sure that Year One's play was going to look West End worthy in comparison.

The morning didn't start well.  Nathan decided that he didn't want to go to nursery this morning - this is a common battle at the moment, despite how much he seems to enjoy it when he gets there...  We talked about him doing some singing, at which point he just looked at me blankly.  I'm not even sure he'd understood that there was a nativity to be in, or what on earth all the fuss was about.  Still, we trudged to school, costume in hand, and hoped for the best.

I handed my little charge over to the staff, and made my way to my seat.

By showtime, the hall was packed to the rafters.  As the little stars, snowflakes, trees, birds, kings, shepherds, snowmen etc. all trooped in, it must have been a daunting sight for them all, looking out on a sea of faces and recording equipment.

For a long time I didn't see Nathan.  I thought maybe he'd decided he couldn't bear it...  But then - last through the door came my littlest shepherd, holding hands with the teaching assistant.  He sat on the end of one of the benches, and the performance began.

Now - I'm not going to lie.  It wasn't Oscar winning material.  The story was held together by the glue that is the indomitable, fantasmagorical Mrs Penycate.  None of the little cherubs had any lines to learn, other that in the songs, so there were no dramas there.  They sung (or shouted, to be honest) their little hearts out.

The thing that struck me most was how the amazing nursery staff had found a place for everyone.  The shy boy, the moody girl, the boy with learning difficulties, the girl who could have sung and danced the performance all on her own... They all made it onto the stage in small groups at some point.  They waved at their parents at inappropriate moments.  They forgot to do half of the actions.  They were helped onto and off the stage.  But they were absolutely delightful.

When I went to pick Nathan up at lunchtime, the staff were thrilled with how well it had gone.  Just to make it into the hall, in a costume, on a stage, in front of a whole load of people is a massive achievement when you're small.  It made me remember (again) how important it is to celebrate small victories.  You put your socks on by yourself! Well done!!  You got cross, but you didn't swear at your children!  High Five!!

Big victories only come along as a consequence of a whole load of little ones anyway.