There is often too much focus on money during the Holiday Season so I’ve put off writing the third installment of my “A Matter of Money’ posts. Instead, I’m re-posting a segment of a post I wrote back in 2011 – a story about my favourite Christmas gift…
First, I should start with a little background. As a child I was extremely withdrawn. I rarely spoke to anyone – especially not unfamiliar people. Visiting the homes of family or friends I would sometimes disappear behind the couch or some other large piece of furniture and not come out until my mother announced that it was time to leave. In school I was frequently paralyzed with fear when called on in class – unable to do anything except stare blankly at the teacher.
My father was in the military and when I was 7 years old our family moved to Germany. Not knowing the language seemed to make my silence a much more acceptable behaviour. We lived in a small town about 20 miles from the air force base. Our family was befriended by a German family who showed us all the local attractions and taught us about their culture.
As Christmas approached there were many ‘new’ traditions for us to experience. The decorations are what I remember the most. One day when we went to visit our German friends there was a Nativity scene set up on a table in their living room. I was immediately drawn to it and spent the remainder of the visit sitting on the floor by the table. I examined it from every angle mesmerized by the intricate details.
As I gently touched the figurines I remember thinking of all the painstaking work that must have gone into carving each piece. I’m not really sure if I was ever told that it had been hand made but that was what I envisioned. I never picked up any one of the pieces – I couldn’t imagine disturbing any part of it. Everything was so perfectly arranged I was certain that moving a piece would disrupt the entire scene. Each time we visited our friends’ home I went to the table and stayed there until it was time to leave.
Traditionally our family opened gifts on Christmas morning but our friends’ gift exchange was held on Christmas Eve. They invited us to attend their evening celebration which began with an outdoor event — some sort of parade or march through the streets of town. Those details are unclear, it was so long ago. Afterwards, we returned to their home for the remainder of the evening.
As we gathered in their living room I took my customary place by the Nativity scene, but something was different. Beside the familiar display there was another table. On it there was a second Nativity scene – smaller and simpler but still stunning.
As I sat there comparing the two I was vaguely aware that someone was speaking. I looked up to see our host standing in the doorway. He smiled at me and said something but I couldn’t understand the foreign words. I looked at my mother for translation and she said “He’s telling you that that smaller one is yours to keep”.
I still have those figurines. The original stable I’ve had to replace, it did not survive so many years of moving and storage. Each Christmas I set it up and remember the day I received it so long ago. A small gift given to a child who tried so hard not to be noticed – but was.
I wish you all a Merry Christmas and hope your holiday season holds wonderful memories too.