Thirty-some-year-old ceramic figures nestled in and around my sixty-some-year-old wooden stable remind us of Jesus' humble birth, and we're humbled.
My parents acquired this charming wooden stable shortly after they were married in 1951. The story goes that a talented somebody in their hometown made it. At some point, the job of displaying nativity figures in and around the stable encrusted with “spray snow” became my job, and I took the job very seriously — my young little hands placed each figure in what I considered just the right spot to convey the importance of the babe in the straw. I've lost track of those figures from my childhood, but the memories remain. I made these glossy ceramic figures in my early twenties; and when my parents went to Heaven and the treasured stable came to me, the miracle of my figures fitting perfectly inside did not escape me — there are no coincidences. My hands, much older now, still look to place each figure in just the right spot to honor the babe; and it makes me smile to know my parents see us keeping the light inside the stable glowing no other color than their favorite orange.
What a wonderful story, Janet, and love that stable - one of the nicest I've seen. What pleasure that must bring each Christmas putting it together and the wonderful memories attached to it and its meaning. Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas!