Day #13
A-Poem-a-Day Until Christmas
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| Maude's ceramic Nativity scene, handpainted in the 1960s. |
THE CRECHE
I was a bride of twenty in the mid-sixties
decorating my home creatively and economically
by attending ceramic classes Tuesday evenings
in Bette Carozza's basement
We sat around the table and coffee cups
cleaning greenware, applying
underglazes and overglazes
talking girl talk all the while
We made cookie dishes and ashtrays
glossy green Christmas trees with snowy branches
fitted with tiny colored lights
We made rooster lamps, pitchers and bowls
piggy banks and tall German beer steins
The most ambitious of us
made chess pieces and Nativity figures
I began working on my Nativity set in 1965
took a few months off after Mom died
and picked up the last pieces
hot from Bette's old electric kiln
on Christmas Eve Day, 1966
How well I recall carefully cleaning
the fragile greenware with a sharp tool
till the seams were perfectly smooth
sanding and sponging tiny bumps
and filling pit holes
Wanting to be as authentic as possible
I applied three coats of sky blue
to Mary's robe
(Did Mary actually own a blue robe?)
and ruddy brown to Joseph's
Jesus' features were less sharp
than the other figures
having been cast from a mold
that had been poured too many times
I unknowingly made the flesh tones too pale
for Middle Easterners
The magi and their regal camels
were embellished with accents of pure gold
and I glued tiny rhinestones
onto their gift offerings
even though it's likely
the Wisemen didn't visit the Christ Child
until months after He was born
The shepherds' garb was given earth tones
and a staff was provided for one of them
fashioned from a birch twig
I dabbed white froth onto the lambs' coats
and gave the cow big brown patches
making it a Guernsey
a breed not likely to have grazed
the fields of Bethlehem
The long-eared donkey was painted gray
Bette's husband, ChiChi
built a fine wooden crèche
with a place on top
to hang the golden-haired angel
who flourished a banner proclaiming
"Gloria in Excelsis Deo"
I installed a music box
which played "Adeste Fidelis"
and a little light bulb
and bought a bag of sweet straw
from Woolworth's
For more than five decades now
a few weeks before Christmas
I've been unpacking the big cardboard box
unwrapping the fragile figures from newspaper
and displaying them throughout the season.
When the children were young
Jesus wasn't placed in the manger
until Christmas Eve
when we all gathered round
and sang, "Happy Birthday"
The angel now has a chipped wing
and the Guernsey's missing a horn
but Jesus still lies sweetly in His crib
apparently not minding whether or not
I managed to get every jot and tittle
of His manger scene historically correct
He just lies sweetly there
year after year
reminding us
that significant night
long, long ago
is a forever celebration
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