what's in the manger?

Deena slipped off her shoes and leaned against the side of her cahier’s cubby hole. Only fifteen minutes left on her shift. The endless cacophony of beeps from the store’s computerized sales’ machines was winding down. The shoppers who remained now were the usual procrastinators, frantically running from aisle to aisle, trying to get that perfect gift before closing time.

A short while later, after the last weary customer was assisted, she clocked out hurriedly, half afraid the manager might decide he needed her to stay longer. Rushing into her coat, she paused at the door, noting the rain falling in cheerless drizzle. She dashed out anyway, almost slipped before she reached her minivan, unlocked it and slid in, shivering.Driving to the daycare center, she listened to the new Christmas CD. The kids’ choir singing “Away in a Manger” only added to her guilt. 

Megan and Burke were waiting by the door, their backpacks on and Christmas crafts in their hands. Helping them climb in with rain slogging down was a messy job, but they were finally in their belts and she pulled away from the lot. The kids were exuberant. 

Burke was first. “Mrs. Cole says we can stay home for three whole days!”

“We’re on holiday vacation.” Megan added her “older sister” explanation.

Deena smiled. “Didn’t Mrs. Cole call it Christmas vacation?”

“No.” Megan was always quite decided in her statements.“She said Christmas was a ‘fensive term.”

“Offensive?” Deena was incredulous. 

This was a large church daycare center. Had political correctness already breached their halls too? Maybe it was time for her to quit working and stay home with the kids. Mark had been talking about it for months. It would mean personal sacrifice; she hadn’t been willing to make it. Now, though she let the thoughts roll as the kids wrestled happily in their car seats. 

At dinner that night, Megan and Burke proudly told their daddy about the gifts they had received and the crafts they had made. They didn’t mention the story of baby Jesus though. And that was when Deena made her decision.

“All right, everyone.” She smiled. “Mommy has a story to tell around the Christmas tree.”

The kids whooped. Stories in the living room by the twinkling light of the tree always delighted them.

Once they were settled with quilts and hot cocoa, she related again the sacred story of the angel and the peasant girl Mary, the quiet carpenter Joseph and the Baby born to save a world that didn’t even know Him. 

Megan and Burke were unusually subdued. Mark held her fingers wrapped in his; both of them sensed the need to imprint this moment on those bright little minds.

Deena finished the story, and let the silence hang sweet and still for a moment. Then she added her own ending. “I know you have heard this story before, but I needed to tell it again because Mommy has been letting something besides baby Jesus be in the manger.” She took the ceramic figurine of the infant Christ out of their nativity set to illustrate. “I thought we needed more money, so I’ve been working at the mall. But really what I’ve been doing is worshiping nice things instead of the baby Jesus. And I think it's time to get things back where they belong.”

Burke sat up, his face intent, his eyes sparkling. “That’s okay, Mommy. You can put Jesus back in the manger. I’ll help you.” His pudgy fingers reached for the figurine.

Together, they placed the baby in His place. Mark squeezed her hand, and Deena reached her arms around her two special gifts, her heart feeling as full as the manger.