Being the Christmas season, I have not had the chance to create anything lately. Therefore, no creative posts to this blog. But this post is more about faith anyway than it is about creativity . . . but it does have creative inspiration to it; so take away what you will.
This is my Story of the Day:
"The Best Christmas Pageant Ever" by Barbara Robinson, 1972
Even though I was 10-years old when this book was published, I had never heard of it until a few weeks ago. It was being performed at our local theater, The Chattanooga Theatre Center, http://www.theatrecentre.com/ and my husband really wanted to go. I say, “Sure. That would be fun.”
And that was the last I thought about it. . . until Wednesday night at 5:45. My better half calls me from the car asking if I had gotten tickets for that night’s performance. Crap. “NO, I forgot all about it. . . I’m sorry. I’ll check right now.”
And then my heart sinks! The last three performances are all SOLD OUT! Wednesday, Thursday and Friday night. “Oh, JOE! I’m so sorry!” I was so mad at myself for letting the week go by without getting those tickets for him.
But Joe is not deterred in the least. He says, “Meet me down there. I bet there will be someone who will want to sell their tickets.”
I say, “I’m leaving right now.”
It is now 6:00 p.m. We live no where near the theater. And the play starts at 7:00. But I have no doubt we’d be watching that play. Why? Because Joe is better than an Arab trader when it comes to this pastime. He can wheel and deal with the best of them. It comes from decades of attending SEC football games to watch his beloved Crimson Tide.
Tears stream down my cheeks anyway because I am exhausted; stressed, and feeling like I mess up more than my fair share of things. But halfway there, my cell phone rings. It’s Joe. “Got ’em!”
I say, “REALLY?!!!
Joe: “Yep! No problem. I ran into some people I know who happen to work there. They said there were a couple of single tickets left.” Me: “Are we getting to sit together?” Joe: “Well, we’re on the same row….but I’m sure people won’t mind moving for us!” Me: “….ok….”
Thrilled, I speed up a bit. Then Joe announces he’s hungry. Great. It’s after 6:00 at this point, so there’s very little time to eat and make the curtain. I suggest a little place a block away called The North Chatt Cat https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-North-Chatt-Cat/187809904606080 hoping we’ll have time to eat a bite and get to the play on time.
As I’m parking, Joe texts that he’s gotten a table, ordered a sandwich and a Coke for us to split, and is waiting on me. It’s packed when I get inside, and I learn there is only one waitress. Great. “We’re never going to make this play! They won’t seat us after the curtain goes up,” I obsess in my head. But our waitress is great and gets us our food and check, and sends us out the door. We walk over to the theatre, find our row and immediately ask a family to move down for us. They oblige kindly. “Well, that was easy,” I think. But that was for the right side of us. We still have to wait for the people on the left side of us to arrive. When they do, Joe gets up and asks them all to move down – along with the rest of the row – all so we could sit next to each other. I sink down in my seat out of embarrassment. But Joe is not bothered in the least. He gets to sit next to his girl.
Ah! The music starts and the play begins! I just can’t believe we are actually getting to see this play. The perfect crime!
Or so I think.
During intermission, one of the main characters comes out on stage and announces the theater is giving away a bag of food to an audience member from one of our local grocery stores – a sponsor, of course.
Oh no. OH NO! I knew where this was heading.
I look at our seat numbers: H111 and H110. But our tickets say H105 and H115.
Oh YES! The man draws a ticket from the bowl and says: “H…..”
I cannot believe this.
And the spotlight shines down on Joe.
Crap. Busted. Joe says in front of the entire theater, “Well, that’s my seat number, but that’s not the number on my ticket. We made everyone move.”
The people in front of us say, “Well, at least you’re honest!” And the entire place laughs. Or so I think my embarrassed mind. But the people to our left who actually had the number, had left, and they never came back. The man draws another number and all is well with karma.
The play was great and we had a wonderful time! And I learned a little thing about faith that night.
Will I obsess the next time we’re in a situation like this one?
Yes, but it won’t be as badly… I hope.