Learner angels, of Wilton Middle School, take part in a nativity. DA4543P4Lesley Bates remembers the season of the nativity play

THERE'S something endearing about toddlers with tea towels on their heads warbling Away in a Manger before a pack of parent paparazzi.

Flashbulbs pop and videos roll as doting dads scramble to record their offspring's temporary elevation to the heavenly host at schools and playgroups all over South Wiltshire and West Hampshire.

For many of them, the Journal's photographic team will be there too, as they are every year, chasing from one end of the district to the other throughout December, snapping Christmas productions from nativities to rock musicals.

Chief photographer Roger Elliott has clocked up three decades of coaxing Kings and Shepherds to smile on cue and has seen it all.

He's seen Jesus dropped and tantrums thrown.

Shepherds have hurled sheep from the stage, kings have tripped over their robes and Mary and Joseph have squabbled about who takes the presents.

"These days, there's a great move away from nativities to multicultural Christmas plays," notes Roger.

"Rap has come into its own and the Kings wear earrings.

"Yesterday I did Hosanna Rock, The Peace Child, which was about two native American tribes, The Little Fir Tree, Starlight, Alice in Pantoland and Alice in Wonderland and this morning I went to Jesus's Christmas Party."

I've attended more than one nativity myself in my capacity as Proud Mummy.

The first was particularly memorable when my little cherub was cast as Mary and had bestowed upon her garments of blue woolly material, a tea towel to match and some rope stuff to encircle it and hold it clamped to her golden curly head.

She was not, however, furnished with a baby Jesus, so we found some swaddling clothes for her favourite dolly Megan and reckoned Megan could pass herself off as the son of God if no one examined her too closely.

We set off on the designated morning appropriately attired, Megan hooked in the crook of one arm and thumb in mouth (my daughter not me).

There was a brief flicker of rebellion as my baby lamb caught sight of all those tinsel haloes and sparkly wings which all the other mummies had provided for their little angels.

The lower lip wobbled and I thought for one moment that she would throw in the tea towel and demand to be an angel too - which would have torn irreparable holes in the Christmas story and thrown the nativity into immediate disarray.

But she rallied as she was led centre stage and her eyes brightened further as she caught sight of the doll already in place in the manger.

The curtain went up to reveal Mary smiling happily with twins.

God moves in mysterious ways...