The Christ Child

as told by Emily Freeman

In the first few years of our marriage, we did not own a nativity set. It was something I always wanted but could never afford. So one year I worked a small job for several afternoons to save up some money for a simple crèche. I bought a very inexpensive set that came with a small wooden stable. The figurines portrayed children dressed up in nativity clothes; they were about three inches tall and made of white porcelain. I chose that particular set because we had two small boys—Caleb, who was three, and Josh, who was just over a year old.

I brought the nativity home and carefully set it up on the end table in the living room. Josh was too little to notice it, but Caleb was immediately drawn to the new display. I patiently explained to him how fragile each piece was and that he must not touch it, but only look at it with his eyes. I took a moment to point out Joseph with his shepherd’s crook, and Mary kneeling beside the cradle that held the baby Jesus. There was a tiny angel, three wise men, and a shepherd with two tiny lambs. I carefully placed each figure in the appropriate spot—Joseph, Mary, and the baby in the stable, the wise men on the left, and the shepherd and the angel on the right. Then Caleb and I sat back and proudly admired our new decoration.

The next morning Caleb beat me down the stairs. I heard him in the pantry putting Cheerios in a cup to eat while he watched a TV show as I finished getting ready for the day. About fifteen minutes later I followed him down, pausing to look at my new treasure on my way into the kitchen. I was surprised to find it in complete disarray! All of the figurines had been squished together in the stable. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason in their placement, and I knew Caleb must have been involved.

I carefully placed each figure back into its appointed place and went to get Caleb. Again we sat in front of the manger as I patiently explained how important it was not to touch the glass figures because they might break. “We can’t touch it,” I told him again. “We just look at it.” Caleb was such an obedient child—he always had been—and I knew it would not happen again.

Imagine my surprise when I walked down the stairs the next morning and found the scene in the same disarray as the morning before. This time I went right in and got Caleb. Setting him in front of the displaced nativity, I asked, “Did you touch the manger?”

He looked up at me with his round blue eyes and replied, “Yes.”

“Do you remember you’re not supposed to touch Mommy’s manger?” I asked.

Again the reply was the same, “Yes.”

“Then why did you touch it?” I questioned.

“Because they can’t see Jesus,” was his simple reply.

I looked carefully at the manger and realized that perhaps there was some order to the disarray. His clumsy little hands had tried to place every figure in a circle around the most important piece of the set—the baby in the manger. Crowded into the small stable, each had a perfect view of the baby. Everyone could see Jesus.

Needless to say, our nativity set has remained the same ever since, and Caleb has never touched the set again. The most important figure has become the focus.