Squelch. Squelch. Squelch.
As we embarked upon a muddy trench with umbrellas in hand, we anticipated the Christmas spirit brought about by the annual nativity play. The sky was a translucent burn't blue. Typical as the rain continued to pour down.
The breeze was chilling as we passed beacons of fire orientated on both sides of the path. Their essence filled the smoky air comforted by their warmth. My shoes were an inconvenience as they moulded into the clay-like mud that blanketed the pathway.
The service began at the top of the hill with Mary riding a donkey that was guided by Joseph. The crowd, like a swarm, were led east by a star to a near-by barn. I was more concerned about falling into the sticky mud that was now riddled with shoe impressions.
When the service finished we were guided along a walkway scattered with hay and were given the opportunity to interact with the cast. This was the highlight of Mum's evening as she got the opportunity to shake the hand of the man who played Jesus in the previous production.
The service was performed by a troupe of Christian volunteers and was mildly compelling. I'd seen them earlier this year in The Passion Of Christ (a reenactment of the Easter story) and even then, by their presence alone you could tell they had the passion.
How will you be celebrating Christmas this year?
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