I am starting to have to dig deep for Christmas memories to finish out the next few days. I sat quietly this morning, letting my thoughts swirl with the cream in my coffee and hoping that a single memory would float to the surface. Of course, it required me drinking the entire cup of coffee before I would actually remember something (having a sinus and chest infection does not help) but the memory was of being dressed as an angel with silver tinsel on the sleeves of the costume my birth mother made for me to wear in the Sunday School Christmas pageant. I didn’t mind being an angel in the choir. My friends were very keen to be anyone else, especially the Wisemen who got to dress up in colourful robes. I liked being in the background, walking up to the front of the church, trying on to trip on anything, standing in the back, singing Silent Night and then squeezing into the pew after our part was over. Christmas Hymns were what I loved most about Christmas Eve services. It is hard to pick favorites, I like them all. Maybe that is why I was always quite content to be an angel in the choir. I did play Mary once for a Christmas play in 1997 when Sammy was an infant. She was cast as baby Jesus, and we all thought it best that I be the one to hold the babe in swaddling clothes.