Astronomer: Marcy
Friend: Debbie
Debbie: I can't see anything in this telescope...
Marcy: You have to look straight in...make sure your eye is in line with the telescope.
(Debbie readjusts herself to see better thru the telescope)
Debbie: OH, NOW I see something....I think. (Pause) Okay, it looks like a white ball. It's..it's just a white ball.
Marcy: Let me see for a minute (girls change places) Yeah, that's what I wanted you to see...Saturn.
(pause and Debbie wraps her coat tightly around her, looking around)
Debbie: Brrr (shivers) It's freezing out here. How can you stand it?
Marcy: (still looking through the scope) The best viewing is on really cold nights when the air is calm and the moon is new. (Stands up and looks at the sky) Out here you don't get light pollution.
Debbie: (looking at Marcy) Light pollution?
Marcy: (Looking back thru the scope) Yeah...city lights and stuff like that....no light pollution means a really dark sky...like we have tonight.
Debbie: You know, I never knew you were so......into astronomy. I mean, I knew you belonged to the astronomy club at school, but you're really into this, aren't you?
Marcy: Debbie, Debbie take a look at this (Marcy stand back from the scope)
Debbie: (Looking back thru the scope, then stands up facing Marcy) Really, Marcy, why do you do this?
Marcy: (Looks up at the sky again) I don't know...I guess...
Debbie: You don't have to tell me if you don't want to
Marcy: No, it's okay....I guess I feel closer to god, or whoever's up there when I stargaze.
Debbie: It makes you feel closer to god?
Marcy: That's not weird, is it?
Debbie: Nooo, of course not! I think it's kind of neat.
Marcy: Thanks! I've never told anybody that (pause) I guess I didn't think anyone would understand.
Debbie: Hey, this is Debbie you're talking to, remember?
Marcy: Yeah, yeah, I know....(looks up) You know, when I look at the sky at night, I just know that there has to be a god somewhere that made all of this. It's so beautiful and so big!
Debbie: (joins Marcy looking up) Yeah, I've felt the same thing when my parents took to the Grand Canyon. It's just so incredible that god had to do it.
(A pause while Marcy returns to the scope and Debbie pulls her coat tighter around her)
Marcy: (count to five before you speak, and begin to speak while looking through the scope) Debbie, do you think god really knows we're here?
Debbie: Well sure. He made all this, right?
Marcy: (gets up from the scope and faces Debbie) No, I mean do you think he knows you and I are here...that we are alive?
Debbie: I don't know;...I guess he does...he's god, isn't he.
Marcy: (more seriously) I guess I'd like to know if god really knows about us and cares about us. (Turns away from Debbie) You remember when my dad got really sick? I prayed alot for him, and he got better. After it was over, I started wondering if it was really god that made him well, or if it was just the medicine and the hospital. (Turns back to Debbie) What do you think?
Debbie: (a surprised) Oh, well, I don't know....I suppose it was god...or maybe it was god and the medicine...Oh, I don't know. I do know that I am freezing to death out here! (Wraps her coat tighter and hops around alittle; act cold!).
Marcy: Yeah, we should be getting back inside. It looks like some clouds are moving in.
Debbie: Oh, great! (Holds her coat tightly to herself and runs slowly off stage, talking as she goes) One more minute and I think I would be an icicle!
Marcy: (Starts to pick up the scope; stands and looks at the sky; act like you are lookingat the stars; count to 5 slowly then speak) God...do you care about me?
(stands still, looking up)
............................................................................
© Fred Lane, Crosswind Community Church, All rights reserved
This play may be performed free of charge, on the condition that copies
are not sold for profit in any medium, nor any entrance fee charged. In
exchange for free performance, the author would appreciate being notified
of when and for what purpose the play is performed. He may be contacted
at: advpastor@gmail.com