Musing. How wise do you have to be to be a wiseman?
My child and I share something.
We were once a magi in a Christmas Pageant.
In Methodist Kindergarten, I walked out in a darkened room carrying a bitty box. I glanced over at the shadowy figures of my parents lining the Fellowship Hall.
Later at home Mom asked, “Why on earth did we curl your hair if they just were going to throw it up in a turban?”
Sorry Mom, that’s what the tall girl gets. Back rows of pictures, top riser in elementary chorus and wiseman status.
Sister. Anxiously awaiting performance.
A former Joseph and lamb. A lifer-shepherd (center). Don't know what Papa Jack was. But his other son has played Jesus and John. That must count for something.
My little wiseman. Looking for the star, no doubt.
A bunch of Auburn fans stopped by....
The wisemen's big moment. They are stumbling around in the audience.
When they turned the lights out...the three found their way back to the stage.
My wiseguy.....
When we got home someone had left gifts of collards, macaroni and cheese and cornbread on back steps.
And I’m tell you. Smack me in the mouth.
