When I was small, I loved to sit and look at the figurines of the Nativity--and, with my vivid imagination, I could almost see them moving and talking to one another.
Mom tells a story which happened when I was around four years old. Dear Mumsie had cleaned the living room in anticipation of guests about to arrive for dinner. Mom strictly told my little brother and me not to mess up the room, then left to do some last minute things in the kitchen.
We were very quiet. And you know what that means! When Mum returned a short time later, she discovered my brother and I had arranged a string of broken toys leading across the floor, up to where Baby Jesus lay. There was a sheep with a broken leg, a doll without an arm, a statue without a head, a stuffed rabbit without his ears--and much more. Just about anything cracked or broken--was lined up in front of the Nativity Scene.
Mumsie knew who the ringleader was--with my parade of broken dolls and stuffed animals, I had totally thrashed the living room. At first Mum was upset, admonishing me to hurry and clean up the mess. But I wailed, "But Mama, I'm bringing all the broken things to Jesus!"
Mom says she melted when she heard those words. She hugged me and left everything just as it was. What a wise Mom!
I can see this funny scene in my mind's eye--and someday I shall draw it. Even then, as a small child, I somehow knew Jesus as the healer of broken hearts and lives.
And now my prayer for you, dear friends! May your Christmas be one of great healing, joy and celebration! Merry Christmas!
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