When I got married and we celebrated our first Christmas together, I realized that something was missing. A Nativity set.
Having a Nativity out during Christmas was something my Mom did every year. I can't tell you why for sure, because it's not like my parents went to church, but I think there was something soothing and peaceful in the tradition of having that little Nativity set on display every year. Plus it was really cool art.
So when my husband and I celebrated our first Christmas together, I knew that in the spirit of the season, I wanted my own Nativity set. Something that would be in the family for years to come. Something that my children would grow to love and expect every year.
The problem is that all the Nativity sets I wanted were really too expensive for our budget. In my mind, I couldn't justify a purchase like that quite yet. Not until I had a family.
The search for the Nativity set took a different turn after my daughter was born. I joined this Mom's group at church and one of the sessions around Christmastime was titled (appropriately) "How to celebrate the true meaning of Christmas with your family." There were a bunch of experienced Mom's talking about how they had found a Nativity that was "kid friendly" so that their children could play with the pieces and the parents could talk about the Nativity scene and Jesus' Birthday. It all sounded great to me and so I went off in search of a "kid friendly" Nativity.
Here's the problem. And here is where I am a little snooty when it comes to the whole Nativity thing.
To me, Nativity scenes are a work of art. I have seen some so beautiful that they make me want to weep (and that was before I saw the price tag). So the idea of purchasing a Veggietales Nativity scence where Bob the Tomato and Larry the Cucumber were some of the key players hadn't quite grown on me yet. Neither had the Fischer Price Little People Nativity where all the characters looked like they were short and fat. Seeing as my daughter was only 9 months old during this Nativity hunt, I couldn't rightly justify purchasing anything that I wouldn't be okay with her teething on. You see my delimma?
I finally settled for a Nativity set I happened across in a nearby Christian bookstore. The price tag was right, the characters were sort of this rubbery/plasticky material that wouldn't break, and the box even said the set was "kid friendly".
The first year we had the Nativity set, my daughter didn't play with the pieces so much as throw them across the room.
The second year we had it, when she was almost two, her throwing had better aim.
By the time she was almost three, she had learned to play with the pieces. She had conversations with the animals in the stable and told the donkey, "Happy Birthday."
And so it went, my daughter slowly progressing toward playing with the Nativity and understanding the Christmas Story. Last year, as I was putting the Nativity set away after Christmas, I couldn't find the baby Jesus.
"Where's baby Jesus?" I asked my family.
No one knew. And I feared that my one year old had swallowed him whole. I watched his diapers for a week waiting for the baby Jesus. Nothing.
I eventually had forgotten that the baby Jesus had been lost from the Nativity set until six months later when I found a wise man hanging out under the couch. I didn't even know he had been missing.
"I found a Wise Man!" I told the five year old and set him in my "junk cup" on the kitchen counter so I would see him for the next six months and not lose him.
"Did you find the baby Jesus?" my daughter asked. I can't believe she remembered he was missing.
Now here is the part where you think that I could just put the Wise Man away with the rest of the Nativity set, but you would be sorely mistaken because I don't go into my garage. Ever. It scares me.
And since the Nativity set was packed away in the garage, the Wise Man got to hang out in the "junk cup" for six months.
So here comes Thanksgiving and I'm thinking, "I have a Nativity set with no baby Jesus. This cannot be."
I break down and buy the Fischer Price Nativity set with the short and fat Joseph and Mary and the chubby baby Jesus that lights up and plays music when you press on the manger. I do this because I have a two year old son who can throw farther than any of us combined.
I put up both Nativity sets. The missing baby Jesus Nativity set is on display because it now has sentimental value to me. I look at the donkey and think of how my daughter told him "Happy Birthday". I look at the empty manger and think of how it will be filled in our hearts on Christmas morning.
And I look at the Fischer Price one and think that it's sort of cute and the light up baby Jesus kind of grows on you. And the pieces are easy to find because they are so fat.
I spend the majority of my evening collecting Nativity pieces that have wandered throughout the house ("Where did you take Mary? Have you seen Joseph?") and putting them back on their perspective tables.
Tonight, as we were decorating the Christmas tree, while my two year old simultaneously removed decorations from the tree, I found the missing baby Jesus in the ornament box.
"Hey! It's the baby Jesus! Look!" I shouted.
"Hooray!" my daughter yelled, and she put him in his rightful place in his manger bed.
"Wook!" my son cried and ran off with the baby Jesus and the camel.
"You bring that baby back!" I yell after him.
"Baby Yesus!" my son yells back at me.
"I'll go get him," my daughter sighs and takes off after the two year old who is waving the baby Jesus in the air as if to tease us.
I got distracted by ornaments after that, and it wasn't until the children were finally deep asleep in bed that I thought to go look for the baby Jesus again.
There was the baby Jesus. Lovingly placed in between Mary and Joseph. My daughter had placed him in his rightful spot with the Wise Men and Angels looking on.
Lately, it is in the quiet moments of my heart that I find I get the most meaning out of Christmas. Sure, I love the making presents, and wrapping presents, decorating, and lights, but this year it seems I feel the happiest just staring at those little Nativity scenes by the light of the Christmas tree. I find my heart kneeling down in front of the manger and simply absorbing the beauty of a baby born in a stable.
My moment was broken by the realization that the manger has gone missing.
