Mama Mary and Ate Shawie

I was in second grade when I was assigned to play the part of Mama Mary.

Mama Mary. Heck, I was going for the role of an angel when they cast me as Mama Mary. It wasn't the plan at first.



Every year, in our province, we have this annual show called "Christmas Cheers" where each school performs at the local plaza at night once the holiday season kicks in. One school, one show everyday.

To make it easy for our school to fill the almost 5-hour Christmas show, they ask each grade and year level (yes, including high school) to come up with a presentation.

We Grade 2 students will be portraying the nativity scene. I told my mom about it and she said:

"Anak, if they ask you to participate, tell them you'll pass this year. We don't have the money for a costume. Maybe you could just say we'll be heading to Manila for a vacation."

As a kid, there was some sort of relief and frustration. Relief, in a sense that I won't be facing a large crowd being all awkward and shy again. Frustration, just because I will be missing out a lot of things, including my extracurricular participation points. (I was running for honors.) And I really wanted to play an angel role.

Casting day came and the teacher was announcing who plays who. My name was called right after she said "angels." I got the part.

I told my teacher that I won't take it. "Mama said we'll be leaving for a vacation po. Sorry, Ma'am."

She nodded and immediately called another girl in class to replace me. That quick. I felt like I was given the chance to fly, but God have me no wings so I remained on my feet.

I snapped out of my depression when the teacher ended with another announcement that she'll be picking out Joseph and Mary the following day. Class dismissed.

And because I initially turned down an offer, I wasn't too hopeful that I would be picked for the Mama Mary role. Besides, I won't be declining again and I don't like the part that much.

But my teacher was persistent. The next day, she talked me into it and asked me if I still want to be part of the show. Naturally, I said yes, then she gave me the remaining role available.

Yes, I was Mama Mary.

To compromise, she promised to help me look for a costume and assured that the only thing I have to do for the performance was to stand beside Joseph and baby Jesus while pretend like I'm praying the whole time. That's it. No more rehearsing for a song number or memorizing a dance choreography.

When I got back home, I told my mom. She can't do anything about it anymore so in the end, she gave in.

The day of the show came. School organizers decided that we perform last because, of course, what's the best way to end a Christmas show? A nativity scene for finale.

Minutes before we step on stage, it started to drizzle. Then it rained. It rained real hard that some of the audience were forced to climb up on the stage's stairs to find shade, because the grounds were uncovered. Some ran to the nearby store while some were already at the side of the stage, a few steps away from the performers.

But as they say, the show must go on.

Showtime came. Enter the angels. Enter the three wise men riding in their cardboard camels. Enter the makeshift manger. Enter other supporting characters.

It was our cue to climb up on stage, but the rain hasn't stopped yet.

I held on to my silky blue veil to comfort myself from the cold. Baby Jesus was on my feet, cozy in a haystack. (I can't recall what Joseph--or should I say, my classmate--was doing that time.)

At that point, I was Mama Mary. And bless you, everyone.

***  

We're down to three days before our office's 30th anniversary happens.

Every year, our office prepares a "contest" for each department where they have to perform in line with the theme. The winning department gets the cash prize and bragging rights (not really).

The theme of the year: Back to the '80s.

I was initially asked to join the dance group, but because it will interfere with my time of duty, I passed. Our crunch time is from 6 to 9 p.m. and the anniversary invitation says the program starts at 8 p.m. I barely have the time to change into my costume and run to the hotel.

When I realized I wouldn't participate this year, I was already dilly-dallying whether to go or not. I decided I'll show up somehow because of the raffle draw.

Two days before the event, our boss' secretary came up to me and another colleague and said: "Can you guys play as Kuya Germs and Ate Shawie?"

I swear, the first thing that came into my mind was where will I get my costume. It was Grade 2 all over again. But she promised me they will help out. Again.

So tomorrow, I am Sharon Cuneta. (I hope it doesn't rain again.)

***

UPDATE: Hey, it didn't rain! I played a one-liner Ate Shawie well and pulled it off with neon pink top and hoop earrings. Yassss.

It's been a while since I last posted here, as usual. If it means I'm not fully committed to this, so be it. I am not a daily blogger, but I'm trying as much as possible to post content here. Truth is, I write often but most don't make the cut. I'd rather keep it in my personal blog than publishing it publicly here. Most of what I post privately though are rough poetry outputs. Nevermind.

Hope you enjoyed this one though!