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Pumpkin and the Christmas lesson
The Christmas tree is finally up, the lights are strung and the wreath is in its place on the front door.
Finally. By the time you read this, faithful readers, the ornaments will be hung and the tinsel carefully applied to each green bough.
We typically wait until after the 13th of December to put up our tree, other family celebrations taking precedence over the annual crowding of the living quarters. (I cannot believe I have been married 28 years, some days, I barely feel 28.) Some may wonder why we bothered at all, since the children are grown, and we'll be traveling this year, but once the tree is up, the ornaments are hung and the quiet found at the end of the day descends, then come the rewards.
Much like a fire burning in the fireplace or at the summer campsite, you can lose yourself in the flickering lights or find yourself caught up in the visible memories found in the ornaments made at school and brought home by excited children. Taking time to pause there, to rest from the day-to-day labors, to imagine the lights a reflection of the light which shone on the night the Gift was given, heals the "grinchiest" heart and calms that anxious heart with a taste of the promised peace.
Decorating for the holidays has grown year-by-year as we have accumulated new treasures to display, depicting the joy of the season. Even so, we made do for several years with an odd collection of figurines for a creche until I finally broke down and bought an entire set, complete with a stable, two lambs, a donkey and, believe it or not, all three wise men. In the first few years, I would, oh so very carefully, take each figurine out of its plastic bubble wrap and gently assign it to its place for the season. Then, as is my habit, on Jan. 1, I would reverse the process, and gently rewrap and relegate the display to storage once again.
One year, the lowest level of the entertainment unit was the most ideal spot for the baby Jesus and his entourage, and with no small children about, the figurines were safe from busy fingers.
However, I forgot to factor in the cat.
Pumpkin, inherited from my days at the Child Nutrition Warehouse, is an enormous yellow tiger-stripe tomcat who does nothing better than lumber from one napping spot to the next. (He now lumbers at my daughter's home in Stratton, but his presence is still remembered every time we look at the creche.)
On one of his Christmas lumberings several years ago, he lumbered through the lowest level of the entertainment unit, carefully picking his way through the maze of wise men, shepherds, sheep and of course, Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus, asleep on the hay.
He almost made it. Just as he cleared the last obstacle, he nudged dear Mary, either with his tail or hind leg, and knocked her face first into the manger, where she remains to this day, bestowing a kiss on the baby Jesus.
Oh, we've moved, more than once, since Pumpkin's trek to Bethlehem, but it matters not. I no longer pack the creche away in storage, but always find a corner, not too well hidden, where Mary is posed, once again, her face gently pressed on the baby's brow. The sheep remain curled around the shepherd's feet, the wise men hold forth their gifts of honor and worship, and Joseph stands apart, pondering in his heart no doubt, as Mary often did, the scene before him.
It is my reminder to keep the promise of Christmas alive in my heart throughout the year.
It is my reminder for the promise that came that day to earth, for peace and goodwill among men.
It is my reminder to ponder in my heart the scene before me, to wonder at the love that motivated such a gift.
It is my reminder to live in the spirit of the gift, to live in the spirit of the truth, to live in the spirit of the love, to live in the spirit of faith and to live with the spirit of hope, because it is my reminder of the promised day yet to come, where I too, will greet the King a holy kiss.
"Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come." Revelation 4:8b