A happy family is but an earlier heaven. - Sir John Bowring
For years I had carefully placed the little plastic Nativity scene under the Christmas tree. It had been purchased along with our other meager decorations the first Christmas we were married back in 1962. My husband was finishing his fourth and last year at college, and money was tight. Each year as Christmas approached, I looked longingly at the beautiful wood and ceramic creches, wondering when there would be enough extra money to purchase one.
Finally the day arrived. Our sons were eleven and fourteen, and we had recently moved into our newly built house. I watched the after-Christmas sales and there it was, nothing elaborate, not a large creche, but it was wood and ceramic with 50 percent off the original price. We made our way to the local department store with all the other bargain shoppers, purchased the creche and carefully packed it away until the following Christmas.
Several weeks before the next Christmas, we brought the box from the basement and arranged the creche in a place of honor in the center hall where, as I went from one part of the house to another, I could enjoy the treasured gift. An angel on the top watched over Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus. Jesus lay in the manger with outstretched arms, surrounded by wise men, shepherds and animals.
One day as I hurried by the creche, something caught my eye. I stopped to look and there beside the manger, looking down at the baby Jesus, was a rubber figure of Charlie Brown. Charlie Brown! Charlie Brown from the beloved Peanuts cartoon series.
I was quick, much too quick, to question the boys and say, "Get that thing out of my creche." I knew instantly our youngest son, Mark, had been the culprit as he looked at me with his boyish grin.
Charlie Brown disappeared. Christmas was over and the wooden stable and ceramic figures were lovingly packed away.
As Christmas approached the following year, the creche was again displayed in its place of honor. It was the first thing holiday guests saw as they entered the front door. It was the last thing we saw each night as we turned off the lights and headed up the stairs to bed.
Several days before Christmas as I passed the creche, I was again surprised. There gazing down at the baby Jesus was not only Charlie Brown but on the other side of the manger stood another little rubber figure. Linus! Linus, blanket and all, stood looking into the outstretched arms of Baby Jesus.
For some strange reason as I beheld this, I was not upset as I had been the previous year. Maybe the creche didnt belong to me alone. Maybe Mark, with his childish prank, was showing he loved it as much as I did. Maybe this young boy was mature beyond his years, knowing the baby with his outstretched arms was for everyone.
That afternoon as I watched my children get off the school bus and head for the house, my heart overflowed with love for them. I smiled when I mentioned that Charlie Brown once again mysteriously appeared in the creche and now Linus had joined him.
As the years went by, I never knew when Charlie Brown and Linus would make their mysterious arrival, but Christmas after Christmas they showed up, looking down into the outstretched arms of baby Jesus.
Mark left for college, but each Christmas Charlie Brown and Linus came home for Christmas break too.
Then came marriage and the move away from home. Still Charlie Brown and Linus continued to find their way into our creche each Christmas.
Last Christmas I stood back with tears in my eyes as Mark bent over the creche with his little daughter, Savannah, helping her quietly and carefully place Charlie Brown and Linus beside the baby Jesus when they thought I wasn't looking.
As the creche was carefully packed away in its now-torn tissue paper and aging box, I smiled to myself secure in the thought that the tradition of Charlie Brown and Linus would continue. And secure in the knowledge that these outstretched arms of the Christ Child welcome us all to the manger.
Finally the day arrived. Our sons were eleven and fourteen, and we had recently moved into our newly built house. I watched the after-Christmas sales and there it was, nothing elaborate, not a large creche, but it was wood and ceramic with 50 percent off the original price. We made our way to the local department store with all the other bargain shoppers, purchased the creche and carefully packed it away until the following Christmas.
Several weeks before the next Christmas, we brought the box from the basement and arranged the creche in a place of honor in the center hall where, as I went from one part of the house to another, I could enjoy the treasured gift. An angel on the top watched over Mary, Joseph and the baby Jesus. Jesus lay in the manger with outstretched arms, surrounded by wise men, shepherds and animals.
One day as I hurried by the creche, something caught my eye. I stopped to look and there beside the manger, looking down at the baby Jesus, was a rubber figure of Charlie Brown. Charlie Brown! Charlie Brown from the beloved Peanuts cartoon series.
I was quick, much too quick, to question the boys and say, "Get that thing out of my creche." I knew instantly our youngest son, Mark, had been the culprit as he looked at me with his boyish grin.
Charlie Brown disappeared. Christmas was over and the wooden stable and ceramic figures were lovingly packed away.
As Christmas approached the following year, the creche was again displayed in its place of honor. It was the first thing holiday guests saw as they entered the front door. It was the last thing we saw each night as we turned off the lights and headed up the stairs to bed.
Several days before Christmas as I passed the creche, I was again surprised. There gazing down at the baby Jesus was not only Charlie Brown but on the other side of the manger stood another little rubber figure. Linus! Linus, blanket and all, stood looking into the outstretched arms of Baby Jesus.
For some strange reason as I beheld this, I was not upset as I had been the previous year. Maybe the creche didnt belong to me alone. Maybe Mark, with his childish prank, was showing he loved it as much as I did. Maybe this young boy was mature beyond his years, knowing the baby with his outstretched arms was for everyone.
That afternoon as I watched my children get off the school bus and head for the house, my heart overflowed with love for them. I smiled when I mentioned that Charlie Brown once again mysteriously appeared in the creche and now Linus had joined him.
As the years went by, I never knew when Charlie Brown and Linus would make their mysterious arrival, but Christmas after Christmas they showed up, looking down into the outstretched arms of baby Jesus.
Mark left for college, but each Christmas Charlie Brown and Linus came home for Christmas break too.
Then came marriage and the move away from home. Still Charlie Brown and Linus continued to find their way into our creche each Christmas.
Last Christmas I stood back with tears in my eyes as Mark bent over the creche with his little daughter, Savannah, helping her quietly and carefully place Charlie Brown and Linus beside the baby Jesus when they thought I wasn't looking.
As the creche was carefully packed away in its now-torn tissue paper and aging box, I smiled to myself secure in the thought that the tradition of Charlie Brown and Linus would continue. And secure in the knowledge that these outstretched arms of the Christ Child welcome us all to the manger.
Jean C. Myers
Chicken Soup for the Christian Soup 2
Chicken Soup for the Christian Soup 2
No comments:
Post a Comment