Christmas Lists

Margaret had been spending so much time worrying about the small things, she hadn’t taken a single moment just to be

- Margaret

Margaret gripped the order of service tightly like a talisman. They were only on the second hymn and, while the congregation sang, she scanned ahead, petrified that she’d forget something further down the list and the whole service would collapse into chaos around her.

Poor David, it really wasn’t his fault. He’d tried – but with his streaming cold, he wouldn’t even have got through the Greeting. And anyway, it was the big day tomorrow – he had to be fit for Christmas Day. So he’d taken to bed with a hot-water bottle, a prayer and a massive box of tissues.

‘Sorry, Margaret, love,’ he’d said. ‘I can’t ask anyone else, it’s too short notice. Could you take Midnight Mass?’

‘What?’ Margaret’s blood had run cold at the very thought. ‘Take the service?’ But she could see that she hadn’t any choice. ‘But I don’t know what to do, what to say!’ In her panic, she did what she always did when she felt out of control.

She reached for a pad of paper and a pen. Her hand was already starting to shake with nerves as she wrote a ‘1’ in the margin.

‘OK, first the Greeting,’ she said, then she wrote a ’2’ on the line underneath. ‘What comes next?’

‘Just follow the order of service,’ David had said. ‘It’s all set out in order. I know you like a list. Mr. Millar will do the reading. Cynthia will lead the choir with her usual gusto,’ David paused, reached for a tissue, and sneezed. ‘Apart from telling people what’s next, all you’ll have to do is the Address.’

‘Oh, is that all!’ Margaret was already finding it difficult to comprehend the task that lay ahead of her.

‘That’s the main event – it’s what everyone is there to hear.’