Baby Jesus

For as long as I can remember, my family has had the same Christmas tradition. My parents tried very hard to make sure we remembered why we celebrate Christmas--to remember Christ, that he came to earth to help us return to our Heavenly Father. Every year on the first of December, we bring out a small wooden manger my dad built about 20 years ago. Each night before bed our family would gather around the manger to read scriptures, sing a Christmas Song, have family prayer and give our gift to Christ: service. We would each take a turn and recount any acts of kindness or service we gave to others that day. For each act we got to place one piece of hay in the manger. We would work all month long to try and build up that small pile of straw so on Christmas Eve when the Christ child was born, He would have a soft bed to lay in. I have loved this tradition. No, it wasn't always a spiritual experience every night and there were often days that would pass and I hadn't done any service that day, but I can honestly say it helped keep Christmas in perspective and encouraged us to give to others, to look beyond ourselves and try to help those in need.

Last week when I was at my mom's house, Jude discovered the manger that was tucked under Grandma's Christmas tree. Baby Jesus was laying inside atop a meager pile of straw (the month had only just begun). Jude crawled right over and looked, and looked, and finally he took that baby doll out and held him. I had to take a picture.

It was so cute and reminded me of all those years past when the six kids would sit around the manger at night, the only light from the fireplace and a candle we would light. We took turns holding Baby Jesus as we would add our straw to the pile. It made me smile as I thought about the fun times, the giggling as we (sometimes irreverently) played with the baby but would always wrap him up tight in his blanket at the end and return him to his little bed of straw. This poor baby has seen a lot in his days--he's smudged from grubby fingers, missing a couple toes and fingers from a curious puppy, and look less than pristine from the years of love--but it just wouldn't be Christmas without him.