The Church Cantata

Last Sunday, my husband and I went to the cantata at Pleasant Hill Baptist Church. I was in the mood for some choir singing.
 
I also figured my father and my step-mother would be singing in the choir, though other than that I had no idea what role they would play.
 
My father turned out to be the narrator for a little story about a mother with a deaf child who showed up in the town square on Christmas Eve, looking for the doctor who could help. The jaded newspaper reporter (my father) saw the woman meet the doctor (the newspaper reporter's wife) and all ended well.
 
Mostly the choir sung and I was happy with that.
 
I sat in the back row, which is never a good spot to sit if you are going to take pictures. I'd have sat closer had I known my father and step-mother were so involved. Oh well.

The church at dusk.



Our former neighbors and companions on the back row. I wasn't actually
trying to take their photo; I was trying to turn the flash off on the camera.



My father in his outfit.

My step-mother is the one with the angel wreath.

I was really too far back to get decent shots.

The mother with her young son in the skit.



Lots of eating afterwards.

More eating.

This handsome young man is my husband's cousin, Lincoln. I am not sure of the kinship. Some kind of
2nd cousin once removed or something, maybe. He's James' grandmother's brother's son's daughter's son, whatever
that is. He just graduated from college and is looking for work in the sports management field.

Santa came to visit, too.