Nativities

There are a few things that I really, really love doing over the holidays. And one of them is setting out my nativity scenes.  I don't like just any nativity scene, they have to mean something to me- like the glass one my sister sent to me while I was living in Brazil, all alone and away from any family; a porcelain one that was painted by my sister; and this one...

A hand-carved wooden one I bartered for in a market in Hartbeespoort, South Africa. The market I made my husband stop at with me on the way back to the Johannesberg airport where we would then fly home. The market where we had to go to the ATM. Twice. To get more money for stuff I HAD to have.  Cash that we didn't have on us, because Beerman had just gotten a speeding ticket (although he did talk the police officer down from 500 Rand to 100 Rand, because he knew I was on my way to the market and would have killed him if he'd spent that much money on a speeding ticket!)

Each year, I pull this nativity out, clean it up, and set it out. I love its colors. I love how smooth it is.  I love that there is a cross as a part of it, even though the whole idea of a cross wasn't a part of the nativity. And I love the memories of that day; the one that started in Botswana, went speeding past a police officer in Zeerust, on to the Johannesberg airport, and all the way back home again.  All done with my own child, waiting to be born.

I'm always on the hunt for a new nativity that means something, but that's not always the easiest thing to find.  In fact, this was the last one I bought.  Maybe it's time to find a new one.