One year when we lived in Idaho I was out shopping on the Saturday before Christmas. Imagine my surprise when I pulled out of the store parking lot and saw a donkey walking on the other side of the street, carrying a young woman. As I looked more closely I realized that this must be some kind of Nativity re-enactment, and I drove home quickly to pick up Cindy Lynn and bring her to see Mary and the donkey. I don't remember much about Cindy Lynn's reaction; she was probably only 4-5 at the time. What I do remember is the feeling that I first had when I saw the woman on the donkey — it made the idea of the Nativity story real for me in a new way.
Several years ago our ward started putting on a Live Nativity one weekend in December. I wasn't sure what I thought about the idea, though I willingly sewed a couple of shepherds costumes. But I was unprepared for the feelings I had when I came and looked. We drove through first, and then came back around, parked, and got out and stood and watched.
There was something about seeing real people, even if they were “just” actors, even if they were people that I knew, that caught at my heart and filled me with the spirit of Christmas. The shepherds, the wise men, Mary & Joseph; suddenly I could see them as real people caught up in the most important moment of all time. All hushed and reverent, filled with silent awe at the magnificence of the event.
Each year I wish that there was a way that I could just stand and watch for just a few minutes with no one else around. No one talking, no children wanting to get closer, no cars driving past. Just a few quiet minutes to think about the tableau in front of me.
Each year in the few minutes I do get, I think to myself,
This is Christmas.
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