I Believe in Christmas

I collect Nativity sets. My most precious is an all white porcelain Avon one that goes up high for eyes only.
No little fingers can move Mary along or swipe Baby Jesus off of the hay. No dog's tail can swish a wise man to the floor; no elbows reaching for ornaments can knock an angel from on high.
Axel, who is 12 now, and I, took each piece from it's royal blue box and then from it's white styrofoam block.  We took turns choosing a place on the old mantle piece for each member of the cast. We have a donkey and three cows, camels, sheep and shepherds, wise men and angels and the treasured Holy Family. 
My mantle is small for this Nativity set, so we had to rearrange often as we kept opening boxes. 
Would the Wise Men have stood all together?  Would they have stood next to the shepherds and the sheep? Would the Angel of the Lord have stood back or been front and center? Where would the tired donkey have chosen to rest?  Would he lie down where he could see the new babe, or away from the awestruck crowd? 
For me, putting up the Nativity scenes, is one of the great joys of Advent . This set is very special to me and is the anchor for all of the celebrations in our home.  No matter where I am in the house, my eyes wander toward the sight of it and in an instant I am centered.  The Holy Family.  The Christ Child. In the catch phrase of our time,  "the reason for the season." which is so true and so very easy to forget. 
Over the next several days Axel and I will put out all of my many nativities. Some are made of wood, some are plastic,one is stone.  My house will be adorned with angels and wise men, shepherds and sheep and cattle lowing. My nativities are big and small, short and tall, simple and ornate. There will be many that the little hands of grandchildren can arrange and rearrange to their hearts content. A few will be out of reach brought down only for ooohing and aaaahing, for the story of how they came to be mine, who gave them to me or where I found them myself, what country they came from.  Inevitably, at some point, one of my children or grandchildren will say " I want that one. I want that one! "  What they mean is  they want that one - when I die.
This conversation does not upset me for I will die, but the good news is this.  I BELIEVE in the message of the Christ Child!.  I believe in Away in a Manger and Joy to the World  but I also believe that Christmas is the beginning of the story, not the end.  In the end, we have Christ the Lord is Risen Today and  Amazing Grace. In the end, we will all be rejoicing together, not here, but in heaven - what ever that might be. The songs of Advent give way to the songs of Christmas and Easter, of Resurrection and Everlasting Life. And I am thrilled to know that when I die, my many beautiful nativity sets will grace the mantle pieces and coffee tables of my offspring. When they gather they will talk of angels and babies in mangers and of Gramma Bevy who used to have this one on her mantle piece in the old house on Garden Street.And they will say Gramma BELIEVED .
 I  BELIEVE and so, though I will not always be here to open these boxes and place these porcelain figures of Mary and Joseph and the babe on this mantle piece,  with these children and grandchildren who I love, I will live on in Christmas and other memories and I will not be alone. I BELIEVE and so I will always be with The Christ Child.  For me, that is the true meaning of Merry Christmas.

For Unto Us

It is only ten days until Christmas.
Ten more days of anticipation and preparation and then..... '
My Focus Phrase group is reading daily Scripture passages and writing to Scripture phrases.  
Today's Bible verses are from Isaiah 9
It includes the verse that we are all so familiar with from the Messiah.

 For unto us, a Child is born.

I can hear it sung. I can hear it read in the resonant voices of ministers past and present,
I never tire of it. Do you hear the trumpets playing as you read the words?  I surely do.  For   Unto  Us. 
Staccato.  One word at a time, and yet, an entire  message.

Our phrase today is

For unto us a Child is born. What name do you have for the Christ Child TODAY?

Who will Christ be in your life today?  Will he be Wonderful? Counselor? Prince of Peace? 

What name do YOU have for the Christ Child Today?

Her name is Ursula. Or is it?

We got our tree this weekend!!  It is early for me, but it was the window of opportunity that worked for the whole family.  Oh, what a treat it was to wake late and feel the bright Saturday morning sun on my face and  the sweet breath of  Nattie B on my cheek. Lorelai's faintest of pitter patters heralded her arrival at my bedroom door and Axel Henry,  long and lanky in his PJ's, was right behind her. They were ready to start the day. We paraded down the stairs following the thundering cascade of canines. Parents soon came to plant morning kisses on their children's faces, grown up hands reaching for coffee and tea.
Aunt Jackie arrived with bacon and eggs and we filled our bellies before bundling up for adventure.

We took the old Volvo wagon around the bend and pulled up against the snow fence that keeps the younguns in the coral of evergreens. A fire was going, cider was mulling, and the country gal who owned this small business came out wearing a plaid flannel shirt and a beautiful, genuine smile.  Ahhhhh, the blessings of small town life.
Axel, being almost twelve, was champin' at the bit.  He knew he was gonna get a chance to be on one end of the saw. To keep him busy, we handed him a bright red, ten foot,  two by two, marked off in one foot lines to carry  around and measure up any trees that struck our fancy.     He was satisfied.  Not necessarily safe to be near, but satisfied.
"Too tall. Too short. Too prickly. Really?  No., Too big! "  The chorus rang out in the cold, crisp air. The little girls rans on little legs and the pre-teen swung his stick. One or two possiblilties noted, we headed south and then up the small hill.  " This one?  What about this one? I like this one. " the big girls chimed.
And then it was over.  Elizabeth called for me to look at one on the edge of the lot. "It's curly, just like Natalie's hair." she sang; and it is.  My story book tree looks like she had a permanent.  Or perhaps she has tentacles, or sweet fluid limbs that sway in the breeze, just like Lorelai the ballerina.   Whatever you call them, my response was immediate.  "Start Cutting!" I called  out, "we're done!"
Axel was in his glory. He and Aunt Elizabeth made quick work of it and soon he was dragging our curly girl up the hill to the waiting and watching operator.  Tossing it through the magic string wrapper, lilke a lumberjack, she left us free to toast marshmallows and pick out baubles for the little ones to carry home.
The tired toddlers in bed, the tree rested in the stand. I was mesmerized.  I just turned sixty and I have never seen any thing like it.  After naptime and the local parade of the Christmas puppets was over, the ornaments stood with anticipation.  Never before had they hung from the curve of such graceful limbs.  Tender shoots curled under to hold our treasures.  One branch, curving in and then out, holds, three, count them three ornaments, each facing a different direction. I feel like I have a new grandchild.  I want everyone to come and see.  " look, look, " I want to shout, her name is........"
Her name is.  I am thinking she is the makings of a children's book. She reminds me of Ursula in The Little Mermaid, but then again, she does not. I looked up Ursula.  it means Little She Bear.  Just doesn't work, though the title Ursula is Thirsty is a catchy title.
Ursula.  For now, my tree is Ursula.  And I love her.
It's almost Christmas.  May your tree hunting be as merry.