the first year I lived with my grandparents away from my brothers and sisters in a tiny village (24 families) in rural Maine.
The school Christmas pagent was held in the only church in town -- My grandfather was the minister. The pagent was a series of vignets (sp??) using I'm dreaming of a white christmas with the Bing Crosby record in the background. There was a mildly retarded girl who wasn't able to memorize lines or actions. The teacher had her play the "most important" part. She sat at a desk and "fell asleep" and the pagent was her dream. I have never forgotten this kindness.
It was a warmer/more loving time where everyone was included. Even the man from WW One who had been gassed and was taken care of by his elderly parents.