Nyla Nox
At first I had been upset. I was the best actress in class, not just by my own assessment but also as overheard several times in comments from my teacher. So when the roles were handed out, I was stunned. The lead went to a class mate who had never shown a special interest in the theatre. I looked at her. She smiled and acknowledged the privilege, her blonde hair shimmering in the late morning winter sunlight that fell through the class room windows. Was it my hair? Then I looked around in the room and at all the other girls who had been cast in background parts. Why her? The boys, of course, had plenty of parts to share amongst them. Joseph, shepherds, inn keepers, Romans, kings... At least I had been cast in the second best female part – I was the archangel Gabriel. But right then I have to admit I felt nothing but contempt for the archangel Gabriel. A consolation prize, appearing in only one scene. Why? The answer was a lot more complex than I knew. In fact I had fallen afoul of religious discrimination. It was a late aftertaste of the persecution that had made my ancestors walk all the way across Europe in search of a sanctuary. And although I was only nine years old, my life was inextricably entangled in history and politics, overshadowed by the actions of those who had died long before I was born. I cried. But that was before I understood about the costume. Apparently, it was felt, the Virgin Mary had to be a Catholic, but an angel could be any denomination. I wasn’t supposed to know this but I found out through the village grapevine that the matter had been a subject of delicate theological discussions among the teachers. Various experts such as the village priest and the religious instruction lady from the neighbouring market town had been consulted. The non-denominational nature of angels had been agreed on in a spirit of generosity and ecumenical openness, although it was a sacrifice and on the conscience of some. I remember the priest averting his eyes wh
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