Trouble at the Inn
The Twelve Days of Christmas
For years now whenever Christmas pageants are talked about in a certain
little town in the midwest, someone is sure to mention the name of
Wallace Purling. Wally's performance in one annual production of the
Nativity Plan has slipped into the realm of a legend. But the old
timers who were in the audience that night never tire of recalling
exactly what happened.
Wally was nine that year and in the second grade, though he should have
been in fourth. Most people in town knew that he had difficulty in
keeping up. He was big and clumsy, slow in movement and in mind. Still,
Wally was well liked by the other children in his class, all of whom
were smaller than he. Though the boys had trouble hiding their
irritation when Wally would ask to play with them or on their team,
for that matter, in which winning was important.
Most often they'd find a way to keep him out, but Wally would hang
around anyways--not sulking, just hoping. He was always a helpful boy,
a willing and smiling one, and the natural protector, paradoxically,
of the underdog. Sometimes if the older boys chased the younger ones
away, it would be Wally who would say "Can't they stay? They're no
bother."
Wally fancied the idea of being a shepherd with a flute in the
Christmas pageant that year, but the play's director, Miss Lambard,
assigned him to a more important role. After all, she reasoned, the
Innkeeper did not have too many lines, and Wally's size would make his
refusal of lodging to Joseph more forceful.
And, so it happened that the usual large, partisan audience gathered
for the town's yearly extravaganza of crooks and crèches, of
beards, crowns, halos, and a whole stage full of squeaky voices. No
one on stage or off was more caught up in the magic of the night than
Wallace Purling. They said later that he stood in the wings and
watched the performance with such fascination that from time to time
Miss Lambard had to make sure he did not wander on-stage before his
cue.
Then came the time when Joseph appeared, slowly, tenderly guiding
Mary to the door of the Inn. Joseph knocked hard on the wooden door
set into the painted backdrop. Wally, the Innkeeper, was there
waiting.
"What do you want?" Wally said, swinging the door open with a
brusque gesture.
"We seek lodging."
"Seek it elsewhere." Wally looked straight ahead but spoke vigorously.
"The Inn is filled."
"Sir, we have asked everywhere in vain. We have traveled far and are
very weary."
"There is no room in this Inn for you." Wally looked properly stern.
"Please, Good Innkeeper, this is my wife, Mary. She is heavy with
child and needs a place to rest. Surely you must have some small
corner for her. She is so tired."
Now for the first time, the Innkeeper relaxed his stiff stance and
looked down at Mary. With that, there was a long pause. Long enough
to make the audience a bit tense with embarrassment.
"No! Begone!" the prompter whispered from the wings.
"No!" Wally repeated automatically. "Begone!"
Joseph sadly placed his arm around Mary, and Mary laid her head upon
her husband's shoulder, and the two of them started to move away. The
Innkeeper did not return inside the Inn, however. Wally stood there
in the doorway watching the forlorn couple. His mouth was open, his
brow creased with concern, his eyes filling unmistakably with tears.
And, suddenly this Christmas pageant become different from all others.
"Don't go, Joseph," Wally called out. "Bring Mary back." And, Wallace
Purling's face grew into a bright smile. "You can have my room!"
Some people in town thought that the pageant had been ruined. Yet,
there were others--many, many others--who considered it the most
Christmas of all Christmas pageants they had ever seen.
