Xmas Plays/Devotion

(Excerpt from play. . .)

I don’t have to tell you how greatly I long for freedom, and for all of you. For decades you have given us such incomparably beautiful Christmases that my grateful memory of them is strong enough to outshine even this rather dark one I am now spending in a prison cell. It is times like these that show what it really means to have a past and an inner legacy independent of the change of times and conditions.

(Excerpt from play. . .)

(LONGFELLOW is seated at desk and first appears to be writing. He looks up, as if someone has come into the room, picks up what looks like a poem, stands, and goes around desk. Leans back against it facing audience, and says loudly:)

LONGFELLOW:
Of all the days, Christmas. (Shaking head, introspective. Talking to audience, but more to self.) Hear those bells? The sound of them woke me early this morning. They always ring those bells on Christmas morning within ear shot of the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow household. It is such a joy to hear them. And I, being a writer of some renown, as you know, was inspired to pen a poem.

(Excerpt from Devotion. . .)

According to Hanna’s faith, the vow she made before God meant that her first born son, should God grant her one, was to be a Temple Priest.

The priest at the door, Eli, observed Hanna’s sobbing and her lips were trembling, but he could not hear her voice. He had perhaps never seen such devotion and heartfelt need before, so he said to her:

“Woman, how long will you make yourself drunk like this? Take the wine that is mocking you and remove it from this place.” Hanna was shocked. “Oh, no my lord,” she responded. “Forgive me, but I have a heavy, heavy heart. Not a heart drunk with wine or strong spirits. I am pouring out my soul to the One who hears, and then He acts!”