The Nativity in The Empty Lawn

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. I am here typing away while my mom finishes up the last bit of work she needs before she enjoys her vacation, there are three dogs asleep within arms reach, one on a pillow, one on a recliner and the chihuahua is near my feet. My sister is getting ready to go pick up my younger brother and his wife, who are flying in tonight, and there is no snow to be seen anywhere.

Outside the house is a rather large nativity set we decided to pick up, complete with a Star above the manger, a spotlight, and a little lamb. The Holy Family are white silhouettes framed in the spotlight’s glow, they sit in perpetual adoration of the infant with the tiny little lamb on the side just barely in the light. As far as I know there is only one house in this block with a nativity set, and it is one of those ones where Mary, Joseph and all the other figures are illuminated from within, and brightly colored. The rest of the houses possess no shortage of Christmas lights, snowmen, grinning Santas and other signals of the Holiday. The two nativity sets on our block seem almost out of place in this season.

To make it stranger, the neighbors on either side haven’t decorated their houses in any manner. So the Nativity set stands alone, here away from the rows of lit up houses and the bright Santas and grinning snowmen. I write all this not to praise myself, my mother, my house or the other person with the nativity set whom I do not know. But instead, I wonder how it must have felt for Mary and Joseph away from the lights and crowded inns, in a manger. Maybe there was a tiny lamb there too, just on the outer reaches of the light, witnessing this event that would shape the world.

Image used is public domain / Wikimedia Commons.