Then, I made another wish: I wished that one of the popcorn balls would fall to the floor and that Mama would let me eat it up! But, none fell. They just stayed still, hanging there on the holly limbs, as if they too were waiting. Nothing on the tree was moving, except the flickering tips of the candle flames, and little wisps of smoke rising from each blaze. Nothing in the whole church was moving, except those candle lights and Captain Jones's lips and his quivering beard. The stiff pasteboard in my paper hat was bothering my head so much I wanted to pull the hat clear off. I reached up to get it, but Mama made such a frown I knew to leave it alone. Then we saw Aunt Vic raise one of her hands in a quick waving motion. Immediately somebody back on the stage gave the ropes a hard jerk and the curtains opened wide. Of all things! An apple crate right in the middle of the stage with hay sticking out at the top and on all sides! I couldn't imagine why we needed hay at church. Bess and Jim-Bo were sitting there beside the hay box, their hands folded as if for saying prayers. They weren't praying, though. They weren't moving their lips or keeping their eyes closed. They were just gazing down into the straw. "Mama," I whispered, "what's down in the box?" "Sh-sh! Pay attention to Captain Jones so you can understand the pageant." I started to listen to him. Then I happened to glance toward the far side of the stage. I was glad I did! There came all the school girls—Mierd and Irene and Sally and all the rest—every one dressed up like an angel with pretty shining wings. And right behind the girls were Wiley and Wallace Goode and the Hansen boys. But they didn't have on wings. They were just toting little pasteboard sheep, gray and droopy, and long crooked sticks. Slowly the angels and the sheep boys circled around behind Bess and Jim-Bo, and every last one of them leaned their heads over to look down in the hay. "Mama, there's something down in that box!" "Sh-sh, Bandershanks. If you can't see, why here, stand up on the bench a minute." I stood on tiptoe and stretched my neck. "It's a baby, Mama!" "I know." "He's asleep!" "Be quiet, Bandershanks, and sit back down." "Mama, how come the baby's in the hay?" "Hon, the baby is like the Little Lord Jesus." I stood up again to look. "He's got red hair! Mama, that's Miss Ophelia's baby! He—" We heard a big commotion outside, and everybody turned toward the back door. Mister Goode opened the door. But instead of going outside, he beckoned for whoever was at the doorsteps to come into the church. Three curious-looking men filed in, one close behind the other. They marched, clomp, clomp, straight up on the stage. "Look, Nannie," Papa whispered, "now we know why Lida Belle bought that calico!" "I declare to my soul, Jodie. I can't believe it!"