Mary: a monologue
By Kelly Crull
(c) 2002
Synopsis:
Explores the emotions and thoughts Mary, the mother of Jesus, may have had as a young, unwed mother following the pronouncement to her of her pregnancy.
©Copyright Note: This play is protected under copyright law and performance is strictly prohibited without the express consent of the author. Though production is generally granted royalty free, please contact Kelly Crull for permission to perform this play.
Cast:
Mary
Setting:
The side of the road
Lights up. Enter mary. She's walking down the shoulder of the road with her thumb out, trying to hitch a ride to Galilee. A car passes.
Mary: Oh come on. I've been out here for two hours. This is crazy.
I'm crazy. I'm standing here on the side of the road with my thumb out and no idea what I'm doing. I can just see it--thousands of years from now people will be reading in some book that Mary of Nazareth was pregnant with the Messiah, and when she heard the news, she got scared, nearly peed in her pants, threw some clothes in a backpack, and ran away from her parents.
Mary of Nazareth--in a book.
Well, if that's the way it's going to be, let me say this off the record. It's amazing how quickly a person's life can fall apart after only one visit from God.
Last night I had the angel of God standing right in front of me, and he told me I was pregnant, and all I could say was, "I am the Lord's servant. May it happen just as you have said."
I had the angel of God standing right in front of me, and that's what I said, "May it happen just as you have said." I didn't bother to ask questions about how me, little old Mary, might make it happen.
Here's a question--my parents.
My parents are going to freak when they find out about this. My mom doesn't even believe me when I tell her I've cleaned my room. How's she going to believe me when I tell her, "God made me pregnant."
And my dad, I don't even want to go there.
And Joseph, he's been so patient with me. How are we going to make it? When he finds out, he'll have no choice. He'll have to break off our engagement.
And then what? Nine months from now I'll be a young, single mother sleeping in a shelter crocheting little doilies to sell at the market so I can feed my kid, the Son of God, his Cheerios.
I'd like to have a talk with whoever did this to me. I know I said I would have this baby, but that angel caught me off guard. It was four o'clock in the morning, and that angel wasn't exactly pretty. Couldn't you have sent Mel Gibson, or something? What was I supposed to say to that thing? No?
I keep thinking that angel must have had the wrong house number or something. I'm just a girl whose never been ten steps further than the butcher shop at the edge of town without my mother.
My family's nothing special. We have a cow, some chickens, a goat, and we call ourselves farmers? The closest I've ever felt to royalty was when my dad gave me one of those crowns at Burger King.
Besides, doesn't the mother of the Messiah need to be someone spiritual?
Sure, I pray. I read the Scriptures.
But I'm a liar too. I bite my nails. I have split ends. I buy romance novels and stuff them under my pillow so my mom won't find them. And I'm always trying to get my way. I can see myself years from now at a party or something telling my son, the Miracle Worker, that I'm out of chardonnay, and could he please turn the pitcher of water at the center of the table into wine, so I can have a little fun.
My son, the Miracle Worker. That's what I need--a miracle.
Mary is caught off-guard by her own statement.
She holds her womb, deep in thought, and eventually with a greater sense of understanding, says...
a miracle
Mary picks up her backpack and returns to the side of the road to stick out her thumb.