Christmas Isn't Christmas Without... A Creche
One of the things that drives me to the very edge of sanity, around this time, are all the righteous individuals who are indignant that there aren't nativity scenes every 3 feet. This, obviously, constitutes a "war on Christmas."
What would they say, I wonder if I revealed to them that a little extra touch Mum always made sure we had in the house, or hotel room, was a mini-creche?
Do not think, because of this, that I was also packed off to church every Sunday, or that I know any prayers other than "Our Father." I was never christened because mum wanted me to be able to consent to it (this did not stop my grandmother from knitting a beautiful christening shawl).
Flora is very unenthused by organized religion, or by the demands of it upon a lifestyle. I think she's secretly fascinated by it because, besides having a healthy collection of little creche's, she also asked me to bring her back an icon from both of my trips to Russia.
She has a knack for finding Nativity scenes that are not only suitably small for traveling but are also collapsible or glued in a walnut shell. It's like they call out to her.
The word "creche" comes from the word "crib" in French.
It's funny, to me, how often you see the Messiah in a manger, stuffed with hay, and a cow and donkey looming over him like, "what is this in our food trough?" It's such a common sight that we forget just how abnormal this is. Imagine if this happened today: A woman couldn't make it to a hospital, and no one would let her into their home, so she went into a barn and delivered her baby there. Then she put the baby in the feeding trough.
Yet that, we are told, is what happened.
What would they say, I wonder if I revealed to them that a little extra touch Mum always made sure we had in the house, or hotel room, was a mini-creche?
Do not think, because of this, that I was also packed off to church every Sunday, or that I know any prayers other than "Our Father." I was never christened because mum wanted me to be able to consent to it (this did not stop my grandmother from knitting a beautiful christening shawl).
Flora is very unenthused by organized religion, or by the demands of it upon a lifestyle. I think she's secretly fascinated by it because, besides having a healthy collection of little creche's, she also asked me to bring her back an icon from both of my trips to Russia.
She has a knack for finding Nativity scenes that are not only suitably small for traveling but are also collapsible or glued in a walnut shell. It's like they call out to her.
The word "creche" comes from the word "crib" in French.
It's funny, to me, how often you see the Messiah in a manger, stuffed with hay, and a cow and donkey looming over him like, "what is this in our food trough?" It's such a common sight that we forget just how abnormal this is. Imagine if this happened today: A woman couldn't make it to a hospital, and no one would let her into their home, so she went into a barn and delivered her baby there. Then she put the baby in the feeding trough.
Yet that, we are told, is what happened.
A favourite memory is the wee creche in a walnut shell we took to Kathmandu that ended up as a gift to Amala's Buddha and placed in his shrine. Another great piece. Best advent calendar ever!
ReplyDelete