The plot of the program was that the angels were getting ready to announce the birth of the Christ child, and were planning what part each would have.   One angel insisted that she was going to wear her favorite robe (hot pink, with sparkles), and couldn't wait to sing loudly.   Some of the others tired to convince her that she should wear white like the rest, and let the ones with the good voices sing.  This angel that doesn't fit in gets depressed because she doesn't have any talents to offer.  In the end, the angels decide that what she brings to the announcement is a level of excitement that no one else has, and that each of them has something special to do that makes the announcement richer.

The cast of our little program made the plot come alive.   Each child had something special to offer that made the play richer.  In addition to the "drama queen" who played the main role with gusto and dramatic flair, there was the littlest angel who kept forgetting his lines, couldn't stay still while singing, my own sons, with their physical disabilities, who were bell ringing angels, and Joseph, a teen who suffered traumatic brain injury in April, recently began to walk again, and who still has slower speech and processing than his peers.   Add to that the teen boys with ADHD and Aspersers syndrome that were running the sound system, and the picture is complete.

The stage was an assortment of chairs (each suited to the individual who sat in it) covered with white sheets, with an assortment of white lights and fluffy fake snow strewn about the floor.  Nestled in amongst the others in the lowest chairs, where they could reach the floor easily, were my two kids, their bells half hidden in the snow until they were needed.

Mary and Joseph slowly entered during the final song, and sat off to one side. Joseph began by kneeling on one knee, but soon had to find a sitting position as his balance failed him.

My sons helped keep the other angels focused on the speakers as they turned and listened intently to all of the lines and laughed at the funny parts.  When it was their turn, they rang their bells with gusto.  During some of the songs, the children were to sway from side to side, arms around each other.  Since Josh and Caleb could only sway front to back, their groupings quickly changed their swaying patterns to match what the boys could do.  the grouping that contained the littlest angel who could not stay still adapted to his style by making room for him to circle their cluster as he sang.

The whole effect of this show on the audience was incredible.  Not only was the message of the plot powerful, but the message of the actors themselves was even more stunning.  One man, who has seen thousands of theatre productions in the last 10 years, was nearly in tears afterwards.  "I have never seen 2 actors more excited to play their parts than your sons", he told us. "This Christmas will be better than any in a long time for me, because I got to see them here tonight."  For me, knowing how tough it has been for "Joseph" to fit in with his peers since his accident, it was magical to see his slow, stately walk and quiet stillness being an asset to the rest of the cast.   He set the pace that night, and he knew it!   For the ADHD/ autism gang at the sound system (one of these was mine, too), being able to help without needing to be looked at was an incredible feeling.

How did this all work out so well?  No one at church has had any classes on inclusion and how to do it.  Each child was simply looked at as an individual and fitted with a role that matched their abilities and personalities. And each child looked at the others as part of his group, to be fit in however worked best.  Many of the adaptations that made all of the kids part of things came from the kids themselves, as they saw a way to make their peers more a part of things than ever.

Was the performance perfect?  No.  But it was wonderfully moving because it was real; real kids in all different kinds of packages working together to make their point clear to the audience.

What is the moral of my little story?  Inclusion doesn't take knowledge; it takes an attitude that every child is a part of the group.  Attitude is everything!