Every year, as I decorate the tree and put out the holiday knickknacks, my heart softens when I spot the big orange sneaker box. That orange box has a few words written on it with a sharpie pen—“Mom and Dad’s Nativity”—the last decoration to be set out.
The box is not labeled for me, but for my children and grandchildren so that they will know why this little bit of 1950s culture was important to me. The stable is made of cardboard; the star above the roof is fiberboard with glitter glued on it, a very humble place. The figures of the angel, the people, and the animals are plastic, their colors gently faded from small hands touching, moving them around in the stable, and from sheer age. This donkey, this cow, and this small lamb have faithfully shared their home with the Child for more than 60 years. So many memories of taking this Nativity out of whatever box it was in and putting the figures in their places!
I have had other Nativity scenes—wooden, ceramic. And I have seen more elaborate ones, some made from olive wood from the Holy Land, others populated with life-size figures. But this humble cardboard Nativity connects me not only to my childhood, to my parents, but to all those who have celebrated the coming of the Christ Child for the past 2000+ years. Matthew 1:23 says, “And they shall name him Emmanuel, which means God with us.” I am part of a long, unbroken line of parents and children welcoming the Son of God, God with us.
—Rev. Janeen Hill, friend of St. Paul’s
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