Christmas in March

I love our nativity.

We got it as a present for Christmas, so I declared that it should remain displayed on our bookshelves a few months so we could take Christmas with us a little longer. Steve caught me admiring it one day, moving the characters and placement of the animals.

"Are you playing with the nativity set?"


"No."


Last week while I was carrying Darcy out of the room, she wriggled and squirmed in my arms, aiming her squishy little body in the direction of the nativity set. I plopped her on the carpet for a formal introduction.

Joseph and the shepherd observed from a safe distance because of their precariously outstretched ceramic hands and pointy staffs.

I think Mary was her favorite. As soon as I told Darcy that Mary was the mama, she wouldn't let her out of her sight.

Sorry wise man.

My favorite part of the nativity is Mary praying. This image of Mary the night Jesus was born never crossed my mind before. As I watched Darcy grip the figurine tightly around the center, I wondered to myself if Mary's prayer sounded anything like mine the day Darcy was born:

Help.