Commentary : The Story of Christ’s Birth Takes on Many Incarnations : Holiday: The Nativity contains all the elements that make it a classic for those of all walks of life.
The tale has all of the elements of the “good story” that a high-school English teacher preaches about--strong character development, rich plot, a sub-plot, good setting, pathos and even animals.
And for every person captivated with this tale, there are the small figures of Mary, Joseph, the baby and the other Nativity characters that dominated some segment of their childhood.
There never appeared a need to enter the debate of a creche on public property, roped off for security. The Balboa Park Nativity scene had never met my personal criteria for a viable creche. Yet last week, as young and old hands meticulously wiped away the paint sprayed by vandals on the park figures, the Balboa Park creche took life. For in my lifetime I have concluded that a true creche is one that has been touched by human hands.
The Immigrant’s Nativity. Although they vary in size, dimension and hue, there is always the same underlying narrative that accompanies the immigrant’s Nativity. The figures of Mary, Joseph and the baby have been gingerly transported by hand by those who fled Czechoslovakia, Mexico, Poland or Germany. As a childhood friend’s Polish mother explained, she had carried the tiny figures from her parents’ village to the new world where she hoped they would become part of her children’s history.
The Monsignor’s Creche. Generations of children growing up in a northwest Detroit parish, deep in a blue-collar neighborhood, received an early education in art history from a generous monsignor. Born into a wealthy automotive family, the monsignor passed his vacations roaming the European countryside for religious art. His parish church was embellished with ornate church kneelers and chairs and magnificent oils and sculptures depicting scenes from history that absorbed little minds restless during Mass.
On the first Sunday of Advent, the monsignor’s creche graced the church lawn. Majestic and beautifully carved, it shared a rich history with a neighborhood of first- and second-generation immigrants. Time has not dwindled how splendid was Mary in her flowing blue gown, gently smiling at her child. No railing or rope separated the onlookers from the figures of this creche. One remembers the monsignor himself taking small children closer to the figures to partake in the story.
The Newlywed’s Creche. Purchased during World War II by the newlyweds at the J.L. Hudson Store, this terra cotta set was as beautiful as it was fragile and held an important place in a front room. The young couple who purchased the terra cotta figures could not have foreseen the touching by the little hands of seven children or the misplaced balls or careless bumps that would alter the creche’s appearance.
Each December, the family would carefully unwrap each piece from the J.L. Hudson box. Then they would evaluate its condition. Usually, someone was sent down to the store to get a new shepherd or king, or to see if they had a cow or lamb that could substitute for the damaged ones. In later years, the creche was an ensemble of love. With no regard to scale or size, the subsequent additions were an assortment of forms.
Yet, the original central figures of Mary, Joseph, Jesus and the Angel Gabriel of the newlywed’s creche survived. True, Mary’s nose had disappeared, the Angel Gabriel sported only one wing and much of the paint on all the figures had eroded, but they had served a family well, to tell and retell the story of the Nativity each Christmastide.
The Lincoln Log Nativity. Found years ago in a married-student housing unit in Rochester, N.Y., this set was the inspiration of a young mother who allowed three red-headed boys under four years of age to play with it as a way to occupy the time during the cold and snowy month of December. Every afternoon after naptime, as the wind and snow whipped through the housing unit, these three little boys constructed with Lincoln Logs a different form of stable for the weary travelers to Bethlehem.
The Woolworth Special. Purchased in 1975 at the Fashion Valley Woolworth’s, this Nativity scene is constructed of rubber with painted exterior. Over the years, it has been fondled and lovingly touched by countless hands each Christmas. The purchaser always felt she would replace it with a “better set”--upgrade, so to say. The years, however, have diminished the desire to replace this set.
The Hanukkah friend, Jane, now 9, who always calls in early December to note that she can “help trim the tree,” has spent hours arranging the Woolworth’s Special. She prefers the round set-up approach--the bambino in the center, and everyone in a circle about him. However, her 9-year-old gracious hostess promptly rearranges the set, according to her own liking, the moment Jane returns home.
Last year, poor post-Christmas packing or carelessness left the kneeling shepherd from the Woolworth’s special out of the box. Like the traveler left behind, the shepherd has spent the year in the office desk drawer greeting those who search its contents for scissors and the stapler.
Shall we upgrade the Woolworth’s special, asks the father? The mother thinks not. She points to its now-developed history of a family and its friends. Moreover, responds the mother, an “upgraded” set could be intimidating.
For you see, the mother feels that Nativity scenes are meant to be touched by small hands.
Mary, she believes, would concur.
