I love my nativities. I have several. Handcrafted. Purchased. Big ones. Little ones. Formal ones. Folk art ones. I even have a wonderful ornament that has the stable of popscicle sticks and peanuts for the three main characters.
The one pictured below is a favorite. It was a gift. When you turn the stable over, there is a printed sheet inside it and all of these little pieces fit in it in puzzle form. I have two of this type, this one and a larger that my Uncle made for me.
So we put out our nativities. And once again we tell the Christmas story. This is the last year that we will have a full time young person in our house. Our baby takes off for college next fall. I am slowly enjoying the season. The decorating. Because next year it will just be me and The Man.
So the post title sounds like a super deep thought provoking one.
Well - it's not.
The Man and the Children packed up the Christmas stuff last time. Let's just say attention to detail was not one of the descriptions of this fact. This is an important note.
See - I have a stunning bronze three piece nativity. A glorious, ceramic one. A wedding gift from my precious Mother - in - Love, Ann. I have Joseph. I have Mary. I cannot find baby Jesus.
Tonight will find me back in the attic. Putting the now empty boxes that are already displayed back and looking for baby Jesus.
My buddy Leandra says " he wasn't born until Christmas" - Looking like it may be then before I find him.
I CANNOT FIND BABY JESUS - and cursing this fact really seems like a bad idea. - Ya know.
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