 Good morning friends. Welcome to the First Deuterian Society of Madison, my name is Kelly Astros-Jackson, and I am one of the ministers here. The vision of FUS is growing souls, connecting with one another, and embodying our UU values in our lives, our community, and our world. Thank you for joining us today for this special performance, a seasonal departure from our usual Sunday morning fair. We ask that you keep your mask on so long as you are indoors, including and especially when singing. You may notice that today's performers will be both speaking and singing unmasked, and I just want to let you know that this is a special exception to our current COVID safety policies here at FUS, specifically for this theatrical team who are observing a very stringent set of testing and safety protocols. Following this morning's performance, we would ask you to help us in clearing the atrium in the building. In a timely fashion, we want to give the performers the time and space that they need in order to disassemble the set to get ready for a memorial service we're having later in the day. This morning and throughout the holiday season, our offering will go to support Just Dane's eviction program, providing rent assistance to families at risk of homelessness. To contribute, there are places to deposit checks or cash just outside the auditorium, and you can also donate from our website, FUSMadison.org. Again, welcome. We're so very glad you're joining us for this special performance of Old Bethana with Ken Longquist and friends. Please enjoy this beloved ancient tale as we enter into the holiday season together. What a beautiful morning, a beautiful morning for selling my fish at the marketplace I see you're already to buy. You're my favorite kind of people, people at the market. Look at this fine catch. These will bring a good price. Oh, I can see you. You're wondering why the fish are clattering and clanking around so much. It's simple, really. I told them I was going to have them boosted. The thought of a needle scared them stiff. Tibbles! Vegetables! Get your fresh vegetable seller. And you? Well, I'm crisp as a cucumber. Zippier than a zucchini. Tipsy as a tomato. Wow, did you ask me? Good morning, friend. Good morning. My friend, let me try. Are you feeling as excellent as an eggplant? Why, yes I. Be so fresh they flop. Tastic hands. My apple's got no... Oh yes, all over, everywhere. With candies. Cakes. Have you never heard of Babushka? Russia or Ukraine then? Baba Yaga. Baba who? Baba Yaga. Well, you're not from Romania, then that's for sure. Those three can be terrible. Know what she will do to you. If you're bad, just be glad she leaves. Sinners to Babushka. Babushka, Babula, Mabaki. Maversor, maybe even word bird she picks. Kissed a wentshot. Babushka what's from your room? Betcha and a saw. She is always told, but her story is very old and differently told. She even goes by all those different names. Befriendly is a good spirit. To me, she's always been about hope. Well, you tell that tale better than anyone, fishmonger. And since none of these fine customers are interested in buying any of your stinky fish, you've got plenty of time. Why not entertain your friends today? Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Tell us the tale. Go on, go on. I'm much too old and tired to tell such an exhausting tale all by myself. What if we help? We'll help you. Yes, I'll play along on the song. We'll all pitch in to start a song. Yes, tell us about Old Bifana. Please. Her story has been told about a thousand times, a thousand times, especially during the holiday time of the year. You know, Santa Lucia, Hanukkah, the winter solstice, the longest night of the year. And of course, Christmas, this is her time of the year. Old Bifana's time. Now you maybe haven't heard too much about her, but believe you me, over in Italy, she's as much a part of the holiday season as candlelight and snowflakes. Carol Chocolate. Some say her story can't be true. Others swear that it is. All I know is from the time when I was just a little boy, it's the most magical story I ever heard. At the edge of a small that was traveled from east to west, strangers were passing through that village all the time. People like these, you know, who would wander around the streets late at night whistling in the streets. They didn't care who they woke up. They didn't care what parents were tired and trying to get some sleep before dealing with, I mean, raising the children the next day. They just did what they wanted. You know the type. They were very strange. They weren't the only ones, though. Oh, no. There were men in the village, men who wore loud plaid shirts. You know the type. They'd go out in public dressed like that and they thought it was just fine. Some people wore vests in public, which was not the style of the day, but they just did it anyway. I'm telling you, everyone in the village was very strange and the children too. But the strangest one of them all, without a doubt, was old Bifanna herself. Well, she kept to herself. She wasn't very friendly. She'd chase dogs out of her yard. And kids out of her trees shaking her broom at them as they ran away. You grumpy old woman. Yeah, what a grump. She's always like that. Well, who could blame them for feeling that way? She really was rather unpleasant. But it wasn't just grumpiness that made people wonder about old Bifanna. You see, she lived all alone. She was always baking. Baking like crazy. Delicious smells were drifting out of her windows, collecting the noses of her neighbors. But would Bifanna ever share? No. She'd chew her neighbors away with a whoosh of her broom. How stingy. All I wanted was a taste. Sheesh. Sometimes, late at night, under the twinkling stars, they'd be drawn back to her house as if by magic. Someone was singing. It sounded beautiful. And they'd look at each other with amazement when they realized it was old Bifanna. Well, how can such a grump sing so beautifully? How can she sound so sweet when she acts so sour? If Bifanna heard them, she'd stop singing and slam her window shut. Well, who does she sing for anyway? And why does she bake so much? No one knew. All anyone really knew about old Bifanna was that she loved to sweep. It sounds crazy, I know. And it was. But she always had a broom in her hand. And she'd sweep her little house. She'd sweep her front steps. She'd even sweep her walkway. All the way down to the road. The villagers just laughed. Why did she sweep so much? She won't let anyone visit. No one ever trumps mud into her house. But sweep she did. And everyone thought she was truly crazy. Take your broom and whisk it all into a heap. Oh, she was happier then, until a terrible illness came. And took them both away from her. I guess it was the pain of that loss that turned her so bitter and grumpy. She missed them that much. Well, that was why she swept and baked and sang all the time. She was just trying to remember how it felt back when she used to do those things for the family she'd lost. Every night, she'd fall asleep with a lullaby on her lips and dream of happier times. Except for one evening. This is where the story really begins. Well, after supper, after she did the dishes and swept the floor, walked the door and got ready for bed. She put on her slippers and her nightgown and her robe. And then she lit a lamp and went to shutter the windows. No, her shutters were shut. She got out of bed. And then, hills and fields to Bifana's ears with a ringing sound, like the tinkling of little bells. Special to somebody. Taste that when a bright star appears in the east, like that one up there, a special child will be born. A child will help the poor. They say it lies beneath the star. And we're bringing gifts to honor the child. I can't help you. I never heard of it. She hunkered down and started sweeping periously, trying to push that starlight off her front steps. Butch. Look! Bifana looks at that little girl and for just a moment, her heart softened. She shook her head. Too busy. The starlight and the children singing. Understand. Don't understand. Try. She stopped sweeping. But in the wind, she could hear the faint singing and laughter of the caravan. And she wondered what it might be like to be traveling with them. Bop su-wabi-wabi. Bop su-wabi-wabi. Bop su-wabi-wabi. Bop su-wabi-wabi. Bop su-wabi-wabi. Everybody's happy in the carousel. Bop su-wabi-wabi. Travelin' together across the desert. Bop su-wabi-wabi. Travelin' and wreckin' the fire. Bop su-wabi-wabi. Weed three kings. Weed three-wabi-wabi. To visit after all, she looked to the horizon, but the caravan was gone. The wind had even erased the animal tracks in her yard. The visit of the kings seemed like it might have only been a dream. Song finally came up and peaked through her wind. She made a fire on the flames until they grew red hot. Then she took nuts and dates and honey from her cupboards. And she did cookies, candies and cakes. What a sweet and spicy perfume. And as she baked, she sang. Lullaby for that baby. Oh, that would make two nice gifts. She was so happy. She sang all day long. That little baby's parents, they'll like that. That was my gift from Oba Fana. Well, she walked toward the horizon, but it wasn't long before she lost her way in that trackless desert. Around and around, she went in circles. She picked up her skirts and began trotting, trying to make up for lost time. Still no caravan. She even tried running, which was hard on her old legs. Her muscles ached and her breath grew short. Slower and slower, she went till she finally slumped down beside an old tree by the side of the road. Squinted up toward the heavens and she heard something heavenly sort of like angels. Was angels? And they were singing. Happening to ya, brand spanking new ya, hunky dory, danger world. Happening to ya, hunky dory, there's a child there, here's a story, come and change your world. Don't you bet, bet bet bet bet. Made her way back down the hill past the old tree. She began to feel, weren't tired anymore. Her toes seemed to dance slightly over the sand. In fact, she felt all together as light as a feather while she laughed in spite of her troubles. I feel as though I could be blown away by a pop of wind. And a wind blew and she found herself running, skipping, almost flying over the sand. Did I say almost? Why she only just managed to gather up her broom and basket before being taken up on a sudden gust of wind. That's her after all. She's following yesterday. He always loved hearing it. We're telling it. Takes myself because it reminds me of my own fresh bakery. I like the part about the sweeping myself. Although if Bifana would have had one of my very fine brooms, she would have gotten her house much cleaner, much cleaner. My favorite part was part about the vegetables. Remember the part about the vegetables. And the fish. Vegetables in that story. And there certainly weren't any fish. Best week they've got. Handmade brooms. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. I think there may be a few people here who are wondering, you know, what happened in the end. I suppose we should tell them that. Be a good idea. Right. They may not know. Well, I'm sorry to say, but Bifana never just catch up to the angels or the terror. She never found peace on earth. And she never found that special child. According to the legends, people tell about old Bifana, she never gave up. People say she's searching still to this very day. Every year, during the solstice time of the year, which we are in the midst of now, and especially on the feast of the Epiphany in early January, the feast of the three kings, they say that Bifana, using the gift of flight that was given to her by the angels on that magical night so very long ago, still takes up her room and her basket and flies across the sky, bringing cookies, candies and cakes to children everywhere. She sings them a lullaby as they sleep. And then, she sweeps their rooms all clean. Why? Well, old Bifana would tell you, it's because she has no idea which child might be the special child. Who will make a difference in the world? And make it a better place. It could be you. Who plays the mandolin and the flute but also the melodic which they didn't even have back then. That's how powerful she is. Jeannie Bindley. Who is this mysterious vocalist over here on my right and your left? Is our friend Sharon Brolin, who did us the kind, kind, generous favor of stepping in last June to learn the part of old Bifana just in case because our Bifana had a little uncertainty about her schedule this time of the year and might have to go international for a while, which Bifana regularly does but that's a whole other thing. Now, Sharon learned the old Bifana part and then it turned out, she was willing to join us and add her beautiful voice to the ensemble even in the humble role of the rest of us. Sharon Brolin. Playing the vegetable seller for the, it seems like forever, year, our good friend, the very talented MC of Overture Center's Duck Soup and a leader of comedy sports in Madison and all around good guy, Joe Thompson. Costume commander, designer, also the artist who painted our backdrop, which even Vincent van Gogh would be hard pressed to do as well. Come on. And the finest bell ringer in all the cosmos, Joanne Schilling. And for the fourth year playing the role of old Bifana, a real veteran of the Madison Theater scene and music scene, Marcy Wyland. Some good friends of ours were quite big Bifana fans wrote to me after the first year they saw Marcy as Bifana and they said, wow, your Bifana this year really scared me. That's the best review you can get, right? My name is Ken Lonquist. It's a pleasure to be doing old Bifana. This is our 35th year. Oh my God. 35 years ago in 1987 in December we debuted this show at the Barrymore Theater. I want to tell you we don't have time to do a question and answer session which we like to do, but I want to tell you the best question somebody ever asked. A little girl raised her hand and asked, is this story true? The answer is yes. It is true. I wasn't there to see the details old as I am. But it is absolutely true that anyone can be the one to make the world a better place. And really everyone must be the one more now than ever. So let's all do what we can to make the world more beautiful. You've made our world more beautiful by coming today. We're going to close with a song that explains why stories like this happen. Long ago, when people didn't understand the cosmos so well people worried that the sun was going away at this time of the year. It was getting dark early. They thought the sun was going away and they worried because no sunlight, no life, no survival, plants don't grow, what would we eat? We stay warm. So they had big festivals and we still have them today. We have big bonfires and torch lit parades and people ring bells and they sing songs about the solstice. And if people are singing songs about the solstice well you know I had to make one up too. On December's longest night solstice bells are ringing. Hail the sun's returning light solstice bells are ringing. Round the you'll fires a bowl ring a link, ring a link ring driving off the dark end as we sing. December's longest night solstice bells are ringing. Hail the sun's returning light solstice bells are ringing. Round the you'll fires a bowl ring a link, ring a link ring driving off the dark end as we sing. And sing it. Solstice bells are ringing. Solstice bells are ringing. Ring those bells. Let's bring peace to the earth. Let's bring goodness to all our neighbors and friends and families. Happy 2022. Thanks so much everybody. We're going to be real quick to get out of the way for the visitation service that's happening soon. So thanks so much and we'll see you again soon I hope. Take care. Good to see you Tara. Thanks for coming. Good to see your kids.