"Why the Chimes Rang"

 

My Christmas present to you is a story by Raymond MacDonald Alden. I previously printed it on my blog on December 22, 2014.

Why the Chimes Rang

by Raymond MacDonald Alden

            There was once, in a faraway country where few people have ever traveled, a wonderful church. It stood on a high hill in the midst of a great city; and every Sunday, as well as sacred days like Christmas, thousands of people climbed the hill to its great archways, looking like lines of ants all moving in the same direction.

            When you came to the building itself, you found stone columns and dark passages, and a grand entrance leading to the main room of the church. This room was so long that one standing in the doorway could scarecly see the other end, where the choir stood by the marble altar. In the farthest corner was the organ; and this organ was so loud, that sometimes when it played, the people for miles around closed their shutters and prepared for a great thunderstorm. Altogether, no such chuch as this was ever seen before, especially when it was lighted up for some festival, and crowded with people, young and old. But the strangest thing about the whole building was the wonderful chime of bells.

            At one corner of the church was a great gray tower, with ivy growing over it as far as one could see. I say as far as one could see, because the tower was quite great enough to fit the great church, and it rose so far into the sky that it was only in very fair weather that any one claimed to be able to see the top. Even then one could not be certain that it was in sight. Up, and up, and up climbed the ivy; and, as the men who built the church had been dead for hundreds of years, every one had forgotten how high the tower was supposed to be.

            Now all the people knew that at the top of the tower was a chime of Christmas bells. They had hung there ever since the church had been built, and were the most beautiful bells in the world. Some thought it was because a great musician had cast them in their place; others said it was because of the great height, which reached up where the air was clearest and purest: however that might be, no one who had ever heard the chimes denied that they were the sweetest in the world. Some described them as sounding like angels far up in the sky; others, as sounding like strange winds singing through the trees.

            But the fact was that no one had heard them for years and years. There was an old man living not far from the church, who said that his mother had spoken of hearing them when she was a little girl, and he was the only one who was sure of as much as that. They were Christmas chimes, you see, and were not meant to be played by men or on common days. It was the custom on Christmas Eve for all the people to bring to the church their offerings to the Christ-child; and when the greatest and best offering was laid on the altar, there used to come sounding through the music of the choir the Christmas chimes far up in the tower. Some said that the wind rang them, and others that they were so high that the angels could set them swinging. But for many long years they had never been heard. It was said that people had been growing less careful of their gifts for the Christ-child, and that no offering was brought, great enough to deserve the music of the chimes.

            Every Christmas Eve the rich people still crowded to the altar, each one trying to bring some better gift than any other, without giving anything that he wanted for himself, and the church was crowded with those who thought that perhaps the wonderful bells might be heard again. But although the service was splendid, and the offerings plenty, only the roar of the wind could be heard, far up in the stone tower.

            Now, a number of miles from the city, in a little country village, where nothing could be seen of the great church but glimpses of the tower when the weather was fine, lived a boy named Pedro, and his little brother. They knew very little about the Christmas chimes, but they had heard of the service in the church on Christmas Eve, and had a secret plan, which they had often talked over when by themselves, to go see the beautiful celebration.

            “Nobody can guess, Little Brother,” Pedro would say, “all the fine things there are to see and hear; and I have even heard it said that the Christ-child sometimes comes down to bless the service. What if we could see Him?”

            The day before Christmas was bitterly cold, with a few lonely snowflakes flying in the air, and a hard white crust on the ground. Sure enough, Pedro and Little Brother were able to slip quietly away early in the afternoon; and although the walking was hard in the frosty air, before nightfall they had trudged so far, hand in hand, that they saw the lights of the big city just ahead of them. Indeed, they were about to enter one of the great gates in the wall that surrounded it, when they saw something dark on the snow near their path, and stepped aside to look at it.

            It was a poor woman, who had fallen just outside the city, too sick and tired to get in where she might have found shelter. The soft snow made of a drift a sort of a pillow for her, and she would soon be so sound asleep, in the wintry air, that no one could ever waken her again. All this Pedro saw in a moment, and he knelt down beside her and tried to rouse her, even tugging at her arm a little, as though he would have tried to carry her away. He turned her face toward him, so he could rub some of the snow on it, and when he had looked at her silently for a moment he stood up again, and said:

            “It’s no use, Little Brother. You will have to go on alone.”

            “Alone?” cried little Brother. “And you not see the festival?”

            “No,” said Pedro, and he could not keep back a bit of a choking sound in his throat. “See this poor woman? Her face looks like the Madonna in the chapel window, and she will freeze to death if nobody cares for her. Every one has gone to the church now, but when you come back you can bring some one to help her. I will rub her to keep her from freezing, and perhaps get her to eat the bun that is left in my pocket.”

            “But I can not bear to leave you, and go on alone,” said Little Brother.

            “Both of us need not miss the service,” said Pedro, “and it had better be I than you. You can easily find your way to the church; and you must see and hear everything twice, Little Brother—once for you and once for me. I am sure the Christ-child must know how I should love to come with you and worship Him; and oh! if you get a chance, Little Brother, to slip up to the altar without getting in any one’s way, take this little piece of silver of mine, and lay it down for my offering, when no one is looking. Do not forget where you have left me, and forgive me for not going with you.”

            In this way he hurried Little Brother off to the city, and winked hard to keep back the tears, as he heard the crunching footsteps sounding farther and farther away in the twilight. It was pretty hard to lose the music and splendor of the Christmas celebration that he had been planning for so long, and spend the time instead in that lonely place in the snow.

            The great church was a wonderful place that night. Every one said that it had never looked so bright and beautiful before. When the organ played and the thousands of people sang, the walls shook with the sound, and little Pedro, away outside the city wall, felt the earth tremble around him.

            At the close of the service came the procession with the offerings to be laid on the altar. Rich men and great men marched proudly up to lay down their gifts to the Christ-child. Some brought wonderful jewels, some baskets of gold so heavy they could scarcely carry them down the aisle. A great writer laid down a book that he had been making for years and years. And last of all walked the king of the country, hoping with all the rest to win for himself the chime of the Christmas bells. There went a great murmur through the church, as the people saw the king take from his head the royal crown, all set with precious stones and lay it gleaming on the altar, as his offering to the holy Child. “Surely,” everyone said, “we shall hear the bells now, for nothing like this has ever happened before.”

            But still only the cold old wind was heard in the tower, and the people shook their heads; and some of them said, as they had before, that they never really believed the story of the chimes, and doubted if they ever rang at all.

            The procession was over, and the choir began the closing hymn. Suddenly the organist stopped playing as though he had been shot, and every one looked at the old minister, who was standing by the altar, holding up his hand for silence. Not a sound could be heard from any one in the church, but as all the people strained their ears to listen, there came distinctly, swinging through the air, the sound of the chimes in the tower. So far away, and yet so clear the music seemed—so much sweeter were the notes than anything that had ever been heard before, rising and falling away up there in the sky, that the people in the church sat there for a moment as still as though something held each of them by the shoulders. Then they all stood up together and stared at the altar, to see what great gift had awakened the long-silent bells.

            But all that the nearest of them saw was the childish figure of Little Brother, who had crept softly down the aisle when no one was looking, and had laid Pedro’s little piece of silver on the altar.

__________

Why the Chimes Rang was first published in 1909, and the picture at the top of this post is one of the original illustrations by Mayo Bunker. Both the story and the illustration are in the public domain because of their age.

Remembering Old Christmas Cards--Part II

 

Since 2018, we have made it a practice to create our Christmas cards using an image from that year’s travels, with one exception that I’ll say more about below. Here are the greetings from 2018 through 2024.

2018

Our big trip in 2018 was to Italy, where we spent several hours at the Galleria degli Uffizi in Florence. One of the highlights was the “Adoration of the Magi,” an unfinished work by Leonardo da Vinci. The image of the unfinished painting, which is shown at the top of this blog post, adorned our Christmas cards that year. The verse was Matthew 2:11, which says: “And going into the house they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh.” ¹

2019

In 2019 we took a Baltic cruise that included Finland. While there, we visited Helsinki Cathedral, which had four external reliefs portraying different stages in Jesus’ life. One shows the shepherds worshiping the new-born Christ, so we used that for our Christmas card. The scripture was Luke 2:15-16, telling how the shepherds hurried to the manger and found Jesus there.

2020

We took a cruise up the Amazon River in 2020, just before COVID-19 closed everything down. In fact, we returned from our cruise to discover that there would be no more cruises that year.

One of the stops we made on our way to the Amazon was at Ile Royale in French Guiana, which had served as a prison for many years. It had long since been abandoned (except by tourists), and the chapel was in bad repair. The nativity scene on the chapel wall was still recognizable, however, so we used it for our Christmas card. The verses were Galatians 4:4-5, which we had also used in 2014.

2021

COVID-19 messed up our travel plans for 2021. We did manage to get in a trip to South Africa and Zimbabwe, but we didn’t see anything there that worked for a Christmas card. So that is the one year since 2018 that we had to go back into our files to find a picture to use. The one we chose is one of my favorites, however. “Adoration of the Child” is by Gerard van Honthorst (circa 1620), and we saw it exhibited at the Galleria degli Uffizi in Florence, Italy in 2018. The scripture that year was John 1:9&14, which say, respectively, “The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world,” and “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

2022

In 2022 we took two international trips, but the Christmas card photo came from the one to Panama. It shows a stained-glass window in the Panama City Cathedral, and the verse inside the card was Luke 2:40, “And the child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom. And the favor of God was upon him.”

2023

By 2023, travel restrictions had eased or been eliminated, and we took a twice-postponed trip to Australia and New Zeeland. The trip to Ireland that produced that year’s Christmas card photo had only been postponed once, however. The painting is displayed at Kilkenny Castle in Kilkenny, Republic of Ireland, and was labeled as “Madonna and Child after Carlo Dolci.” The scripture that year was Isaiah 9:6 and was a repeat of the verse from 2016: “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

2024

Last year we were in Budapest, Hungary again, this time to take a cruise in the other direction, through Eastern Europe to Bucharest. The flight to Egypt is depicted in a stained-glass window at Matthias Church in Budapest. The image is different, but both the theme and the verses (Matthew 2:14-15) are repeats from 2017.

2025

I’ll throw in this year’s card for good measure. The 18^th Century sculpture of the Holy Family is on display at the São Francisco Church Annex in Porto, Portugal, and the scripture is Luke 2:40 (a repeat from 2022).

Tune in for something different next week.

__________

¹ All scriptures are quoted from the English Standard Version of the Bible.

 

Remembering Old Christmas Cards--Part I

 

In 2006, Roland and I visited the ruins of Ephesus in Turkey. While we were at the nearby museum, we saw a broken statue of Caesar Augustus, and Roland took the photo at the top of this blog post. In 2010 we turned it into a Christmas card, and that began a tradition of making our own cards, mostly from photos I took on our travels.

The next two blog posts reminisce about them and send you those greetings from the past.

2010

Roland suggested the first card. Neither of us remember the exact circumstances, but a note inside that card attributes the idea for the content to Dr. Paul L. Maier, who died earlier this year. A Professor of Ancient History at Western Michigan University and a prolific author, he gave a talk about Biblical history at our church and made a joke about it being “Caesar’s greetings” that brought Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem.  So that first card had the above photo and the words “Caesar’s Greetings” on the outside and the text of Luke 2:1-7 on the inside. The message is longer than I want to quote here, but Verse 1 sets the stage. It reads, “In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered.” ¹

2011

Roland and I attend St. Paul’s Lutheran in Munster, Indiana, which has an indoor nativity scene that has graced the chancel every Advent for decades. Kathryn took a picture of it in 2008, and we used it for our 2011 Christmas card. The inside verse was John 1:1, which says, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

2012

In 2012, we used my images from 2010, when Caroline and Pete took us to see the Way of Lights at Our Lady of Snows in Belleville, Illinois. The picture is actually two photos stacked one above the other, and we also used two verses that were not next to each other but, taken together, make it clear that Jesus is the Light of the world. (See John 1:5 and John 8:12.)

2013

Over a decade ago, we purchased a ceramic cross with the nativity scene in it, and it has been hanging on the wall in our kitchen ever since. For want of a better idea, we used it for our 2013 Christmas card. The verse was the well-known John 3:16-17, which, like the cross in the picture, reminds us that Jesus came to die for us.

2014

When we went to visit Caroline and Pete for our 2013 family Christmas, Roland and I took a side trip to Ste. Genevieve, Missouri, and visited the Church of Ste. Genevieve, which had a really cool indoor nativity scene. It was too late to use a photo for that year’s Christmas card, but it was also too cool to ignore, so we used it in 2014. That year’s scripture was Galatians 4:4-5, which says, "But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.”

2015

In 2015, Roland and I took a river cruise from Budapest to Amsterdam, with a post-cruise visit to France. I took numerous photos of the art displayed at the Louvre Museum in Paris, including the one that became that year’s Christmas card. The image is “The Nativity and the Announcement to the Shepherds” by Bernardino Luini (1480-1532), and the verse was Luke 2:11, “For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.”

2016

Our son-in-law Pete took a call to Trinity Lutheran Church in Millstadt, Illinois, in 2014, and I took this photo of the church’s outdoor nativity scene when we visited them that Christmas. Since it was too late to use it for 2014 and we had art from the Louve for 2015, the Trinity Lutheran nativity scene didn’t show up on a Christmas card until 2016. The verse was Isaiah 9:6, which is well-known from its use in Handel’s Messiah. It says, “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

2017

We had a wealth of images from our trip to France in 2015, so we made use of another one in 2017. It’s not from the Louve, however. The stained-glass window portraying the flight to Egypt is from a church in Normandy. The scripture was Matthew 2:14-15, which describes how Joseph, Mary, and Jesus fled to Egypt when Herod sought to kill the baby.

Next week I’ll describe the rest of our Christmas cards, beginning in 2018.

__________

¹ All scriptures are quoted from the English Standard Version of the Bible.

 

Commercializing Christmas

 

With businesses decorating for the holidays, I decided to print a short children’s story that I wrote almost twenty years ago.

Enjoy.

Susan’s Christmas

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,” Susan muttered under her breath as she entered her father’s store. She was playing Mary in the Sunday School program, and she wanted to get her lines right.

“Watch out!” Her father’s voice brought her back to the present. Looking up, she stopped inches from a plastic snowman.

“That wasn’t there last year,” Susan said.

Her father sighed. “No, it wasn’t. I changed the holiday display this year.”

Susan’s eyes grew wide as she looked around. Snowflakes hung from the ceiling, and there were plastic figures everywhere. Plastic snowmen. Plastic reindeer. Even plastic candy canes. Everything except . . .

“Where’s the manger scene? And why does that banner say ‘Happy Holidays’ instead of ‘Merry Christmas’?”

“I don’t want to offend my customers,” her father said. “This is when I make most of the money we live on for the rest of the year.”

“But Dad, last year you said Christmas was the best time to tell other people about Jesus. Don’t you want to do that anymore?”

Her father stared at his feet. Then he took a deep breath, looked straight at Susan, and smiled.

“You’re right. Who cares what other people think. God is the only one who matters, and He wants us to tell everyone about Him.”

“Good.” Susan smiled, too.

“Let’s get the manger scene and the ‘Merry Christmas’ banner out of the back.” Her father paused. “First, though, let me change the music coming over the loudspeakers. How does ‘Away in a Manger’ sound to you?”

“Perfect.”

And it was.

"Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming"--Part V

 

The fifth stanza of the version of “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming” that we are use today was either written or translated by John C. Mattes in 1914. Here are the words:

O Savior, child of Mary,

Who felt our human woe,

O Savior, King of glory,

Who dost our weakness know;

Bring us at length we pray,

To the bright courts of Heaven,

And to the endless day!

 

This stanza brings the earlier ones together and looks forward to our glorious life in Heaven.

Whatever the coming year brings, and however many more I have ahead of me, I know that my life on this earth will transform into endless day in the bright courts of Heaven. And nothing is better than that.

May you have a Christ-filled new year.

"Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming"--Part IV

Here is Harriet Reynolds Krauth’s translation of stanza 4:

This flower, whose fragrance tender

With sweetness fills the air,

Dispels with glorious splendor

The darkness everywhere;

True man, yet very God,

From sin and death He saves us,

And lightens every load.

 

The sweetness of the flower may refer to Christ’s death. Before embalming became a common practice, fragrant flowers were used at funerals to cover up the odor of decaying flesh.

As both true man and very God, Christ was the only person who could save us from sin and death. Through His death, He brought us salvation and more. We no longer have to fear the darkness, and we carry a much lighter load because His yoke is easy and His burden is light.

As we approach the new year, next week’s post will cover the fifth stanza, which addresses the future.

"Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming"--Part III

 

The third and fourth stanzas of “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming” were translated into English by Harriet Reynolds Krauth in 1875, almost twenty years before Theodore Baker translated the first two. Stanzas three and four may have been composed and added to the hymn by Fridrich Lasyriz some time around 1844, but that isn’t clear. The earliest printed text that has been found ( in the Alta Catholishche Geistliche Kirchengansang published in 1599) had 23 stanzas, but these stanzas may not have been among them.¹

In any event, the first four stanzas would have been included in the carol before Harriet Reynolds Krauth translated any of it, so I’m not sure why she chose what are now stanzas three and four. Maybe they were in a different order at the time. Or maybe she started with stanza 3 because it referenced the familiar story in Luke 2:8-20 rather than Isaiah’s prophesies, which are not as well-known even to many Christians.

Here is Harriet Reynolds Krauth’s translation of stanza 3:

The shepherds heard the story

Proclaimed by angels bright,

How Christ, the Lord of glory

Was born on earth this night.

To Bethlehem they sped

And in the manger found Him,

As angel heralds said.

 

This verse makes it obvious that the song is a Christmas carol talking about the birth of Jesus.

Next week’s post will cover the other stanza translated by Harriet Reynolds Krauth.

__________

¹This information comes from https://hymnstudiesblog.wordpress.com/2021/04/22/lo-how-a-rose-eer-blooming/.

"Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming"--Part II

 

Like the first, the second stanza of “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming” was translated into English by Theodore Baker in 1894. Here is his translation:

Isaiah ‘twas foretold it,

The rose I have in mind;

With Mary we behold it,

The virgin mother kind.

To show God’s love aright,

She bore to men a Savior,

When half spent was the night.

 

Although Isaiah foretold that the Messiah would be born of a virgin (Isaiah 7:14), all of his prophesies point to the Messiah himself. The reference to the virgin who bore Him was a sign to identify the Messiah by, not a way to deify His mother.

Still, there is some discussion over whether the rose in the carol originally referred to Mary and was later “Protestantized” to make it refer to Jesus. It is clear to me, however, that the current version does not equate the rose with Mary. The English language has changed over the years, but even so the “it” in line three appears to refer back to the rose. Mary was unlikely to have beheld herself, but she did behold Jesus.

In spite of that controversy, the meaning of the stanza is clear. The Messiah was born of a virgin, and He came as our Savior.

Next week we’ll cover stanza three, which is the one that tells us most clearly that the prophesied Messiah is Jesus.

"Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming"--Part I

 

This Advent season I’m doing a series about one of my favorite traditional Christmas carols, “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming.” The fifteenth century German carol tells the Christmas story in an unusual way by comparing Jesus to a rose.¹

The origin of the rose comparison is Biblically unclear. The carol seems to be combining Isaiah 11:1 and Isaiah 35:1.

Isaiah 11:1 clearly refers to the Messiah, who was to come from Jesse’s lineage. Here it is from the King James Version:

And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a Branch shall grow out of his roots.

The verses that lead up to Isaiah 35, on the other hand, seem to indicate that Isaiah 35:1 refers to God’s kingdom rather than to the Messiah. Isaiah’s original audience may have assumed they would return from exile to rebuild the worldly Jerusalem. For most Christians today, however, the reference is to the heavenly Jerusalem. With that background to build on, here is Isaiah 35:1 from the King James Version:

"The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose." 

To further complicate matters, the translations can’t even agree on the flower that the passage refers to. The NIV and the ESV translates it as crocus rather than rose, and Martin Luther’s German translation uses lily. According to my internet research, what we usually think of as a crocus comes from the iris family, not the rose family, although there is apparently a shrub called a crocus rose.

The carol was written before the King James Version of the Bible came out, so it didn’t get the rose reference from there. Still, the actual flower is not the point of these passages so, for purposes of these blog posts, I’ll accept the comparison.

The first stanza of “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming” was translated from the original German into English by Theodore Baker in 1894. Here are the words:

Lo, how a rose e’er blooming

From tender stem hath sprung!

Of Jesse’s lineage coming,

As men of old have sung.

It came a floweret bright,

Amid the cold of winter,

When half spent was the night.

 

Jesus probably wasn’t born in the winter, since the shepherds were unlikely to be watching their flocks in the fields at that time of year, but Christmas was firmly established in December by the time this carol was written. And even if the carol got the season wrong, the reference to the Messiah is clear, at least to me.

There are some people who believe the rose originally referred to Mary rather than to Jesus. Next week’s post on the second stanza will discuss what it means today.

__________

¹Although the carol is generally acknowledged to be from the 15^th century, the first printed text appeared in 1599. See https://hymnstudiesblog.wordpress.com/2021/04/22/lo-how-a-rose-eer-blooming/.

Christmas Wishes

I make my own Christmas cards, often using a photo I took during that year’s vacation. My card for 2019 highlights one of the reliefs on the outside of the Helsinki Cathedral in Helsinki, Finland. I used only the nativity scene, which you can see in the first picture. But the reliefs also told the rest of the story, as you can see from the second photo showing Christ rising from the dead and coming out of the grave.

Few churches in the United States tell the story of Christ’s life on their façade where it witnesses to those passing by. Even stained glass windows usually face inward so that you have to be inside to see them clearly.

To some extent I understand why American churches do it that way. A church is where we hear God’s Word preached and receive the full power of the message through that Word. Those who already know Christ are comforted and strengthened in their faith by seeing the story as well as hearing it.

But it wouldn’t hurt to share the message on the façade, as well.

Have a blessed Christmas.

A Christmas Cross

Christmas is about Christ’s birth, but it is also about His death and resurrection, and we can’t separate those events. He came as a baby to share our humanity and die for our salvation. The cross in the picture hangs in my kitchen all year long to remind me of that.

As you can see, the cut-outs in the cross portray the nativity scene. The center of the crossbar shows Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus, who is lying in the manger. A star shines above and angels herald the birth on each side. In my opinion, the scenes below the crossbar are backwards since the first visitors (the shepherds and sheep) are placed at the bottom while the later-arriving wise men are above them.

More importantly, this cross is incomplete. Neither Jesus’ birth nor His death would have meant anything without His resurrection. But the Christmas cross is still a good reminder about the all-important connection between Christmas and Holy Week.

The true meaning of Christmas is Easter, so remember that as you celebrate tomorrow.

A Season for Creches

Christmas is family and presents and parties and . . . Yes, those are big parts of the season for some of us, but all of them would be meaningless without Christ. The Christmas celebration is about Christ’s birth, which brought Him to earth to die for our salvation. So the best Christmas decorations are the manger scenes that remind us of the reason for the season.

Today’s blog post highlights some of my favorite creches from recent years, beginning with the one at the top of the page. This is the creche that has adorned the fellowship area in my church for decades. The photo is from 2008, but it could have been taken in 2018.

I also love this creche that I photographed in the sanctuary of the Church of Ste. Genevieve at Ste. Genevieve, Missouri in 2013.

Inside a church is a logical place to find creches, but they create a better witness when they are outside where they can be seen by people who might not walk through the doors. This next creche sits in front of Trinity Lutheran Church in Millstadt, Illinois (my daughter and son-in-law’s church).

Some outdoor displays are more elaborate than others. In 2010, Caroline and Pete took us to see the Way of Lights at Our Lady of the Snows in Belleville, Illinois. The grounds contain many Biblical pictures drawn in lights, and they are beautiful. The first one below is a traditional nativity scene, but I am even more impressed by the second, which shows the city of Bethlehem.

Then there are the more personal creches, by which I mean the ones Roland and I own or have owned. The first photo shows the nativity scene that sat outside our house before we moved to the condo. Caroline and Pete have it now, and it is still in use. The second shows one I crocheted many years ago and have put out every year since.

Everyone should have at least one creche in their house at Christmas time to remind them of the reason for the season.

I’d feel lost without mine.

More Than a Decoration

Several weeks ago, Marni Jacobson wrote a column chiding people who decorate their Christmas tree the same way every year. It reminded me of another column she wrote six years ago where she sang the praises of designer trees and essentially told her readers to abandon the traditional ones.                                                                              

Both times I thought, “I should send her a letter disagreeing with her positions,” and both times I didn’t do it. So I was happy when I read her column this week and saw all the letters she received from readers who feel as I do.

Even though I haven’t written any letters, I did respond to the first column with a blog post. I am reprinting it here with a few minor changes to bring it up-to-date.

More Than a Decoration

A Christmas tree isn’t just a decoration. It reflects family and memories and love.


Thursday’s “At Home” column by Marni Jameson [November 22, 2012, in our local paper] talked about her visit to a Christmas tree exhibit with artistic trees of all shapes, colors, and materials. They included one made of apple-green Tupperware bowls and one shaped like the Eiffel Tower. Then Marni gave readers tips on how to create their own designer trees.


Much as I enjoy Marni Jameson’s column, this time I disagree with her. I’m all for creativity, but I don’t want a designer tree. 


I want one that creates memories of Christmases past and hints at those to come.

The second picture shows the year I got my doll house. A wonderful Christmas with a scrawny tree covered in hand-made decorations. The paper chains are the most obvious here, and we had at least two kinds. Our tree topper was a cardboard star covered with aluminum foil, and the best ornaments were . . . well, I’ll tell you about them in a minute.

I remember only four store-bought things that ornamented our Christmas trees as I grew up. Strings of lights, shiny round balls (like the one in the top picture), long plastic ornaments that resembled the icicles hanging from the eves, and tinsel.

The best ornaments were the ones my father made from goose or turkey wishbones. He dried the wishbones and painted them silver. I’m not sure how many there were originally, but I have two that hang on my tree every year. You can see one of them in the first picture.

The third picture shows the type of tree we had when my children were growing up. By now, most of the ornaments were commercially made, but they still had memories attached. The mouse I bought at a dime store when I moved out on my own, the cloth Santa that always hung at the bottom of the tree because toddlers couldn’t destroy it, and the ornaments Roland’s parents gave us each year. We also used the ones Caroline and John made in school until they took most of those with them when they left home.

Even though the children are grown up now, the tradition continues. In 2018, our tree (shown in the last picture) still wears the Santa, the ornaments from Roland’s parents, and the two wishbones. Unfortunately the mouse broke last year [see my November 13, 2017 post]. Although we still have him, he is carefully stowed away and didn’t make it onto the tree this year. And part of the tradition has moved to other homes. The stocking I crocheted for Caroline hangs in her living room along with the one I made for Pete the year they got married. John has taken his stocking, too.

So don’t let anyone convince you that a Christmas tree is just art or décor.

It is family and memories and love.