Early in the morning of December 11th, 2008 as the radio alarm clock turned on to highlights of local happenings, my husband and I learned of a fund raiser being held to benefit the local food pantry. A live nativity was to be staged, at a barn in Nibley, not far from our home. We decided to take our boys that night as it would only be presented for a couple of days. That evening after having dinner we encouraged the boys to get their coats and shoes on so we could go for a drive. They of course were clamoring for details about where we were going. My husband told them that we were going to “see something to help us remember why we celebrate Christmas.” This started conjectures about presents, Santa and what was on their lists. We bundled them into the van and drove through the dark streets lit mostly by Christmas lights decorating the houses we drove past and the brilliant full moon with carols playing on the van’s radio while we sang along.
“When we have the spirit of Christmas, we remember Him whose birth we commemorate at this season of the year. We contemplate that first Christmas day, foretold by the prophets of old. You, with me, recall the words from Isaiah: “Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel” (Isaiah7:14)—meaning “God with us.”
Then came that night of nights when the shepherds were abiding in the fields and the angel of the Lord appeared to them, announcing the birth of the Savior.”
---Thomas S. Monson, “The Best Christmas Ever,” Liahona, Dec 2008, 2–6
Finally as we turned onto a small country lane we could see luminaries making a path from the road leading to a barn. Brilliant moonlight bathed the countryside and the house lights on the hill were just small points of light in the distance. As we parked and unloaded from the van the wonderment and curiosity emanating from the boys became palpable. They were full of questions and guesses about where we were and what we were doing. We took a moment to explain that we were going to see what it might have been like so long ago that night in Bethlehem when Jesus was born in a stable.
Picture a stable in Judea.
Picture a sacred, silent night.
And can you hear
The angels near
And see the star so bright?
Following the pathway of luminaries we could hear beautiful music as we approached and a shepherd stood at the door to the barn holding a small lantern and welcoming us to come and see the Christ child. Once inside the boys’ attention was grabbed by the pens with sheep, small donkeys, and goats. We reminded them that Jesus was not born in a warm home or a hospital and that there were animals in the stable just like this. Walking further into the barn we could see a beautiful star shining through the window. Lying beneath it was a small baby wrapped in swaddling clothes in a hay filled manger. His mother anxiously caring for him wrapped him more snugly in a blanket. Her husband carefully watching over and caring for both of them wrapped the mother’s shawl around her shoulders when it slipped to the stable floor and he so carefully lifted the baby from the manger and lovingly placed the babe in her arms. Nearby shepherds looked on, their faces filled with awe and wonder.
Picture the kind and gentle Joseph.
Picture the mother, Mary, fair.
And can you see
So reverently
The shepherds kneeling there?
When Timothy, at almost two, saw the baby Jesus lying in the manger he raised his arm and pointed. I told him quietly that it was “baby Jesus”. Then my sweet little boy who struggles to communicate and signs only a few words and speaks even less said, “Jesus” and his face lit up as he repeated over and over again “Jesus”. We stayed for quite awhile, listening to the music and the words from the scriptures tell of the events on that sacred night so long ago. When we tried to leave Timothy got quite upset and kept reaching for “Jesus”. I didn’t want the night to end in tears or screaming (although I knew that with his sensory processing issues it might regardless of what we did) so I took him up to Mary and asked if it would be possible for him to kiss the baby Jesus goodbye. With her permission he leaned down and ever so gently kissed the babe on the forehead and then he waved as we walked out the doors.
Picture the little baby Jesus.
Think of his life and words so dear.
Sing praise to him;
Remember him,
As you picture Christmas this year.
---- “Picture a Christmas” by Patricia Kelsey Graham
“Later, Wise Men journeyed from the East to Jerusalem, “Saying, Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him. …
“When they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.
“And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense, and myrrh.”(Mathew 2:2, 10-11) –Thomas S. Monson, “The Best Christmas Ever,” Liahona, Dec 2008, 2–6
Outside the barn was corralled a camel which gave us an opportunity to remind the boys that wise men had traveled to Bethlehem following the star which foretold the birth of the King of the Jews. That night, walking away from that barn, I could sense that my boys were thinking of all they had seen. After they had went to bed that night I heard Ben and Sam quietly talking to one another about what it was like when Jesus was born. In the following days Benjamin often asked when we could go back to see Jesus in the barn. It seems quite fitting to me that the boys learned the song “Picture a Christmas” in Primary to perform in Sacrament meeting. I could tell that the song had new meaning for them as they sang from the stand on Sunday. For this year I know that they have a memory of what this season is about and whose birth we are celebrating.
I know that as the years pass by we will continue to strive to help our boys ‘Picture the true meaning of Christmas.’ I pray they will grow knowing and remembering, as President Thomas S. Monson said, “Times change; years speed by; but Christmas continues sacred. In this marvelous dispensation of the fulness of times, our opportunities to give of ourselves are indeed limitless, but they are also perishable. There are hearts to gladden. There are kind words to say. There are gifts to be given. There are deeds to be done. There are souls to be saved.” . . . “If we are to have the very best Christmas ever, we must listen for the sound of sandaled feet. We must reach out for the Carpenter’s hand. With every step we take in His footsteps, we abandon a doubt and gain a truth. . . . My prayer is that at this Christmas season and all the Christmastimes to come, we may follow in His footsteps. Then each Christmas will be the best Christmas ever.” (Liahona, Dec 2008, 2–6)
