LAURIE PROPST
“For it is good to be children sometimes, and never better than at Christmas when the Great Creator was a child Himself.” - Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol and Other Christmas Writings.
T
he nights are getting longer and the temperature is dropping. The trees have shed leaves and their bare branches stretch to the sky. Little witches, goblins and ghosts have begged for goodies at our doors. We are moving quickly into early winter. Can Thanksgiving be far away? Thanksgiving, and then CHRISTMAS… Lyrics from a holiday song remind us that “Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year.” It is a magical time, a time of wonder and merriment. It is a time to reflect and remember.
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Beaver Dam is my hometown and I remember St. Patrick’s at Christmas. The creche or Nativity Scene that appeared in the church on Christmas Eve with natural balsam trees as a background, always decked in blue lights. Mary’s face had a warm smile. Joseph stood proudly at Mary’s side. The shepherds with their sheep, the cattle and the angels all carefully placed to honor the Baby lying in the manger. The three kings with their entourage, had not yet arrived. The nativity figures were beautifully painted in soft colors. The facial expressions were exquisite, truly heavenly perfection, except for one little angel. Whether the artist missed a stroke with his brush, or a paint line dripped, I have no idea. That little angel had a crossed eye. I loved that angel and she was always the first figure I looked for as I knelt at the creche each Christmas. Does anyone else remember her?