After 30 Christmas's, my wife and I finally found a Nativity scene we'd like to have in our outdoor display.
Like most home projects, it quickly grew beyond the original scope. The figures had to be placed in a backdrop of course. The backdrop had to be weatherproofed. The figures themselves, sealed with varnish. Some monofiliment fishing line to hold everything in place (we live on a windy hill). And straw to fill in all the gaps.
Something I'd not counted on - how personal it got to work so closely with Mary, Joseph and Jesus.
I know, just painted, mass produced figures! But it took hours to prepare and paint and place. It slowed my Christmas rush down to a tempo where I could absorb some of their reality.
Stark, simple people with very little to protect them from the elements, and no assurance of what was to come.
Excepting their faith in God's promise.
Many years ago I wrote a song that we'll sing this year on Christmas Eve.
One verse finds the Innkeeper recalling this:
"They did not complain as they settled down,
I reached for the gate to go back to town.
But then - she took my hand, and I saw her eyes
They were calm and quiet, they were warm and wise.
The night stood still, and I felt her peace,
A feeling I wished would never cease..."
Maybe its silly and sentimental, but I felt a little of that as I finished working and started to head back into the house.
I wanted to stay with them a little longer. Keep watch. Bask in the grace and peace they'd have needed - the gift of God's love.
Anyway, that's that. They're out there in the cold rain now - those artificial figures, with nothing to protect them but a thin coat of varnish and some wet straw. And you know what?
I wish I could have done more.
It really is more than a just a holiday on the calendar....isn't it?
