Time dances on

It seems like only five minutes since we were crammed into the school hall, hearts beating a little faster with excitement, as we watched our children performing in one nativity play after another.

For years, we couldn’t find a tea-towel in our house because they’d all been used for shepherds’ headgear.

We had kings, we had donkeys, we had inn-keepers. I remember swelling with competitive pride when my daughter was chosen to be a beautiful angel, while my mate Chris’s daughter had to make do that year with being “a stable door”. She had wear a piece of cardboard and turn to one side when Jesus and Mary knocked on her – that was it.

Hannah, our only girl amongst three brothers, was bitten by the performing bug. She joined a dance class and, for years, we trotted along to see her appear in shows, including ballet, tap and modern.

When it was her turn to perform, we only had eyes for our little girl. We were on our feet, clapping and whooping and waving frantically in the hope she’d see us amongst the sea of faces in the theatre. When she was given the starring role of Snow White, we gave her the longest, noisiest standing ovation showbiz has ever seen. It might have only been the local dancing school but, to us, is was the West End.

Fast forward to last weekend. Our “little girl” is now 24 and working as a dance teacher in London and we travelled down to see the Christmas show she’d helped to produce.

With 121 youngsters, from four to 14, taking part, the queue of parents snaked for hundreds of yards outside of the local town hall.

It was great fun watching the dancers in the spotlight, some getting it right and some getting it wrong, with the odd one getting stage fright and running off into the wings before a dance step had been taken.

Hannah was responsible for the littlest ones, who came on dressed as mushrooms, wearing floppy red hats with white spots. So cute.

Unlike 20 years ago, when we did our level best to get near the front, we sat at the back and spent as much time marvelling at the parents as we did watching the performers on stage.

There was one mum directly in front of us getting completely carried away every time her daughter came on stage. She was up on her feet, clapping and whooping, waving frantically, and making more noise than Meg Ryan in that famous scene in When Harry Met Sally.

There wasn’t a cat in hell’s chance of her daughter being able to see her amongst so many people and bright lights. Just as there wasn’t a hope of us being spotted when our little girl was up on stage instead of being the big grown-up dance teacher.

In a few years, we’ll be watching our grand-daughter Chloe in her first nativity - and you can bet your life that we’ll be embarrassing all over again.

THE THINGS THEY DO

THANKS to Robin Davison, of Middlesbrough, for telling me how Emmie, aged six, desperately wanted a dolls house for Xmas Her daddy was working in Germany and saw the perfect wooden dolls house. He struggled valiantly to bring it back on the plane, carrying it through check-ins, passport control and baggage-collection. It was all worth it for his little girl.

On Christmas morning, Emmie woke up excitedly at 5am and rushed into her parents’ bedroom.

"Can we see what Father Christmas has brought?" she asked, jumping up and down on her parents’ bed.

They sleepily followed her downstairs to the living room where all her presents were laid out on the floor. In the centre was the large box containing the dolls house.

Emmie happily tore off the paper and her Daddy lifted the dolls house out of the box as Emmie opened the rest of her presents.

Sometime later, as both parents dozed on the sofa, Emmie shouted over: "This is the best Christmas present I've ever had in my whole life!"

They looked up, through heavy eye-lids, to see Emmie happily playing in the box that had contained the dolls house.

ROBIN also remembered the time, one Christmas morning, when Veronica, aged ten, and her brother Tony, nine, opened their presents side by side.

As well as sweets and toys, they both got new clothes and underwear.

The next day, Veronica decided to wear her new clothes and was surprised to see a hole in her new knickers. Having been taught by her mother how to sew, she proceeded to stitch them up.

Tony walked in and asked the perfectly reasonable question: "Why are you sewing up the fly in my underwear?"

Merry Christmas everyone…