One of my neighbours is Head Teacher at a local primary school here in Hagen. It was their Christmas end of term event earlier this week and, having been invited, I went along.
It was an evening instantly recognisable to anyone who has attended a school nativity anywhere in the world. A scene complete with angelic and not so angelic children, some confident - some less so, some enthusiastic - some shy and slightly embarrassed . There were the inevitable shepherds with tea towel headwear and the kings with cardboard crowns. Proud parents all around with cameras flashing and video cameras much in evidence. Silent night and a baby doll in the clean straw of the Bethlehem stable.
Confronted by this flashback to the days when my own children were this age and being surrounded by all these adoring parents I suddenly felt profoundly alone and very far away from all the people that I care most about. It was unusual for me to feel that way. I'm normally upbeat and very positive about my stay here but I guess that underneath this grumpy old exterior I'm just a big sentimental softie at heart.
I didn't have time to dwell on my emotions however because three quarters of the way through the performance the heavens opened and the noise of the rain hammering on the corrugated sheet roof drowned out any sound coming from the stage. This was followed by the inevitable power cut! Pitch black inside and no emergency lighting. The kids were real troopers and, after a few moments hesitation, they just continued performing in the dark . A few parents had torches and the light from dozens of mobile phones and car headlights shining in through the windows just about saved the evening.
I wonder if I've still got those old photos of the Oddingley Playgroup Nativity? Must check when I get home.
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