Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: CHARGE (10/13/22)
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TITLE: The Christmas Eve Celebration | Previous Challenge Entry
By Dennis Gallemore
10/18/22 -
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Hearing those words spoken by Dan Owens, our church’s latest minister, didn’t exactly galvanize me into action. I sat in the visitor’s chair across from Reverend Owens’ desk and tried to look excited. Judging by the expression on his face, I failed miserably.
The minister leaned forward over his desk, his expression darkening. “Jack, there’s nobody else available. Everyone else in the congregation is tied up with all of the other stuff we’ve got going on for Christmas. Besides, you’re the right man for the job.”
I nodded. “You mean because I’m the only one that’s not busy and I’ve got a pulse.”
Dan grinned. “Something like that. Why aren’t you excited about this? You’ve been in charge of events like this before, or so I’ve been told.”
“I have, but Reverend, I’m no spring chicken. I turned 65 last month. I’m retired now.”
“Perfect. Now you’ve got plenty of time to spend on church projects. Instead of working for IBM, you’ll be working for God. Directly, as it were.”
Sighing, I finally gave in. “Fine; I’ll do it, but I want to do something different this year.”
“Like what?”
I slowly shook my head. “I have no idea.”
***
And that’s how it all began. I brainstormed. I consulted everyone from my wife, Barbara, to Jenny, my hair stylist. Finally, I threw up my hands and did what I should have done from the very beginning. I prayed. A lot.
The answer wasn’t delivered to me by a voice on high nor did a mighty angel descend and impart words of wisdom. No, the idea came to me while I was sitting in the local coffee shop. I had drunk three large mugs of coffee when the idea hit me like a sledgehammer. It was weird; it was strange; and it was grand. To this day, I still lay the blame squarely on the massive amount of caffeine I took in that fateful morning.
I got together with ten good friend and relatives who volunteered to help me out of the inherent goodness of their heart. Well, that and the twenty dollars that I gave each of them. I held a planning meeting on a Saturday morning in early December. “Folks, here’s what we’re going to do.” I laid it out for them and to this day I swear that three of them fainted dead away.
They finally came around to my way of thinking and we put the whole kit and kaboodle together and had it ready to go come Christmas Eve.
On that momentous Christmas Eve, promptly at seven, Reverend Owens stood in front of the congregation and guests. After the preliminaries were over, he got down to business. “Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s with…” He coughed a few times. “Great pleasure that I present the Christmas Eve celebration for this year: Christmas on the Moon!”
The curtain opened on our show as a cardboard lunar lander descended by blackened ropes to the stage. The craft landed and three astronauts in red-and-green spacesuits emerged from behind the lander. The leader, my niece Milly, stepped forward to the front of the stage. “On this day, Christmas Eve, 2035, we come to the moon, to plant not just a flag, but the Cross.”
The audience applauded and I began to sigh in relief. My relief was short-lived. Danny, the second astronaut and my neighbor’s son, stepped forward with the cross and set it on the stage. Terry, the last astronaut joined him with an old aluminum Christmas tree that we had scrounged from another neighbor’s attic.
Terry tripped as he set the tree down, accidentally rolling said tree into Milly who got overbalanced and fell off the stage right in front of the audience. Brave man in charge that I was, I pushed forward from stage right and fell headlong on top of both Terry and Danny. The cross and the flag somehow remained upright but the tree and all three astronauts were down on the surface of the moon.
The audience didn’t know whether to laugh or cry out in horror, but, to their credit, many rushed forward to help. Unfortunately, they collided with each other and the stage. Fortunately, due to the grace of God, only four in the audience and no astronauts were hospitalized.
Being the leader in charge, I clambered up off the stage, and grabbed a microphone. “Merry Christmas! God bless us, everyone, and could someone please call 911?”
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