On Sunday, December 5, 2004, the Fairwater Historical Society presented its third "Old-Fashioned School Christmas Program." The first such program was produced in December, 2002, and everyone involved was astonished at the miracle that community can create. The spirit continues. This completes a report of that 2002 adventure.
Oh, the small frightened
children were afraid to approach Santa. Older children told Santa they've been good this year, that they do what Mom says, that their favorite class is math or reading.
Santa said to one fellow on his lap: "Have you been a good boy?"
"Yes, Santa," the boy said.
"All year long?"
"Yes, Santa."
"What about August 19th?"
"I don't remember being naughty on August 19th."
"Santa remembers. You be a good boy, now, you do as you mother says."
"Yes, Santa."
(On Monday morning the boy's mother would say to Santa when she saw him at the bank: "He asked me what he'd done naughty on August 19th.")
As Santa gave out every bag of goodies the Fairwater Lions had provided for treats, children played at a table nearby, making little boxes from used Christmas cards, making Santa's face with pieces of colored material and beads and glue. One little girl, who'd been so frightened earlier, now walked right up to Santa to give him the face she'd finished.
Soon enough Santa said "Ho, ho, ho, I gotta go" and he was gone.
I don't want to say that the Fairwater Historical Society's "Old-Fashioned School Christmas Program" was a Christmas miracle. Its success surely was an astonishment, however.
Members were already wondering how they'll ever top this year's performance. I don't want to say it was a miracle, but before we went home I could tell my wife "my sadness is lifted, today has raised my spirits." I don't want to say it was a miracle, but when Kathy Schuster thought the idea for the "fairy dust" had been her husband's, I didn't care. It didn't matter whose idea it was, it doesn't matter. No one was taking individual credit for anything - this was about what we had done, what we had accomplished together. It was about community, a spirit moving among us, a pride of place, this place, ours.
You think that small towns are dying? You think the rural midwest has no future? You think there's nothing to do out here in "the middle of nowhere?"
Think again. There is a sense of community being fashioned here anew, by people who know who they are and are comfortable with that, who care about each other. The world is not saved by great men and their talk; it is saved by folks like these, salt of the earth, ordinary people who bear the weight of everything yet they can find a few minutes to celebrate their place in the scheme of things.
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