Our creche is not fancy or expensive or even particularly beautiful. It is made of paper but saturated with meaning and tradition more personal than the deeper meaning of Christmas.
When I was very small, a dear family friend with a talent for finding the most perfect gifts (particularly books) sent us a special advent calendar. For each day there is a little story about a particular "character" present at the manger, and then a printed page for you to cut out and assemble that character. I was too little to remember the assembly (which I now know was surely done primarily by Mom and Dad) but Helen's participation is evidenced by her early handwriting in the margins of the original book. The bodies of the people are cone-shaped with little flat heads and arms sticking out. Brightly-colored paper and not much more.
Who would have thought such a thing could last for nearly 40 years?
Then, again: nothing gets thrown away at the Soule residence, so... each year the little paper figures were carefully packed into a recycled Harry & David's pear box covered with deep purple christmas wrap (perfect for advent!) and tucked away until the following December when we would take them out one by one...or maybe 3 one night to catch up...and read the stories and arrange them on the little table in the living room. Over the years a few additional figures--a small clay pig, for example--found their way to the manger and took up seasonal residence in the pear box. When we grew up and weren't home for all of advent, Mom began laying out all the figures at once, except baby Jesus who appropriately awaits Christmas eve under Mary's conical skirts!
At some point, I think Mom was actually beginning to worry about how to pass along this one treasure to her two daughters. We even searched for a replacement copy of the book, but alas, "A Christmas Crib Book" translated from the German "Der Web zur Krippe" by W. K Holmes and printed in Western-Germany in 1960 is not easily come by.
And then one September I was at Orono Festival Day perusing a table of used books and there it was! I grabbed Alan's arm in shock and snatched up the familiar spiral bound packet. It had a sticky note on that read $2.00. "I'll give you five!" I declared, shoving the bill to the attendant, barely containing tears of joy, and murmering things like, "This is it! This is our creche! It's all here!". And it was. Not only had I found this Holy Grail of Advent, but it was pristine, untouched. I was so pleased that someone had owned this and had not appreciated it at all!
When I was very small, a dear family friend with a talent for finding the most perfect gifts (particularly books) sent us a special advent calendar. For each day there is a little story about a particular "character" present at the manger, and then a printed page for you to cut out and assemble that character. I was too little to remember the assembly (which I now know was surely done primarily by Mom and Dad) but Helen's participation is evidenced by her early handwriting in the margins of the original book. The bodies of the people are cone-shaped with little flat heads and arms sticking out. Brightly-colored paper and not much more.
Who would have thought such a thing could last for nearly 40 years?
Then, again: nothing gets thrown away at the Soule residence, so... each year the little paper figures were carefully packed into a recycled Harry & David's pear box covered with deep purple christmas wrap (perfect for advent!) and tucked away until the following December when we would take them out one by one...or maybe 3 one night to catch up...and read the stories and arrange them on the little table in the living room. Over the years a few additional figures--a small clay pig, for example--found their way to the manger and took up seasonal residence in the pear box. When we grew up and weren't home for all of advent, Mom began laying out all the figures at once, except baby Jesus who appropriately awaits Christmas eve under Mary's conical skirts!
At some point, I think Mom was actually beginning to worry about how to pass along this one treasure to her two daughters. We even searched for a replacement copy of the book, but alas, "A Christmas Crib Book" translated from the German "Der Web zur Krippe" by W. K Holmes and printed in Western-Germany in 1960 is not easily come by.
And then one September I was at Orono Festival Day perusing a table of used books and there it was! I grabbed Alan's arm in shock and snatched up the familiar spiral bound packet. It had a sticky note on that read $2.00. "I'll give you five!" I declared, shoving the bill to the attendant, barely containing tears of joy, and murmering things like, "This is it! This is our creche! It's all here!". And it was. Not only had I found this Holy Grail of Advent, but it was pristine, untouched. I was so pleased that someone had owned this and had not appreciated it at all!
[It has been pointed out to me that Alan, in fact, found the Holy Grail at the book sale...my bad! The rest of the account is accurate!]
I couldn't bear to cut it though, so some time later, I scanned in the craft pages. That first year we attempted to make three full sets and it was way too much trouble and several figures suffered traumatic paper injuries, so I later salvaged the best ones and now keep oen family set in our own special box. I've discovered that a tray of brown rice makes the perfect platform: it helps keep the light-weight figures grounded and even looks like sand.
I gave the scanned in version to my sister, who is finally ready to share the family tradition with little Samantha and have it saved on the computer for future generations and/or replacements.
This year, 1960s Germany meets 2009 technology: the blog.
Follow us on our hi-tech/low-tech advent journey.
I couldn't bear to cut it though, so some time later, I scanned in the craft pages. That first year we attempted to make three full sets and it was way too much trouble and several figures suffered traumatic paper injuries, so I later salvaged the best ones and now keep oen family set in our own special box. I've discovered that a tray of brown rice makes the perfect platform: it helps keep the light-weight figures grounded and even looks like sand.
I gave the scanned in version to my sister, who is finally ready to share the family tradition with little Samantha and have it saved on the computer for future generations and/or replacements.
This year, 1960s Germany meets 2009 technology: the blog.
Follow us on our hi-tech/low-tech advent journey.
No comments:
Post a Comment