The grandkids were over today and helped me pick out a Christmas tree to fight with. But before we did that, we had to answer the traditional holiday protocol in this family and first bring out the creche and set up the Holy Family, who did after all start all this crazy merriment we now call Christmas. I explained to the Little General that I usually stash baby Jesus away in a drawer until Christmas day because he isn't born until then. She didn't like this idea, apparently thinking me guilty of some sort of child abuse and indicated that she preferred to have baby Jesus adopted out by Barbie.
Well, some folks might think that it would be sacrilegious of me to allow a child to play with a baby Jesus figurine as a play thing, but knowing my God the way I do, I happen to have it on good authority that he suffers the little children not to come unto him and I am sure that he considers it an honor that the Little General feels inclined to rescue baby Jesus from a deep, dark drawer.
And isn't it just like a child to teach us the meaning of things? After the kids left this evening, I went around the house picking up toys and putting things back in their place. I passed by the nativity set and smiled at the way all the wise men and shepherds were haphazardly arranged. It wasn't until I begin moving them around that I noticed how the Little General had arranged the manger, swaddling my plastic baby Jesus in a blue plaid blanket to keep him warm. I stand here now, humbled.
I have decided not to change a thing.
Thanks, Little General for reminding me.