We’ve likely all considered the question ‘if you could go back to any point in history and witness what was happening, what event would you chose?’ or questions similar in nature. My answer changes from time to time; watching Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel, being at the first Olympics in Greece, witnessing the pyramids be built…you know, those big historical moments. But right now my desire to step back in time has nothing to do with history, world changing events or anything of the kind. In fact, it wouldn’t even be stepping that far back.
I would love to go back to a Sunday evening when I was a child and part of the Sunday School Christmas program in a little place called Armena, Alberta, about 20 minutes northwest of Camrose.
The Christmas concert was my favorite night of the year, but right now I’m not recalling the pageant itself as much as what took place immediately following. Treat bags.
The tradition continues today but what caused me to think about this is that when I was a child they contained a 'real Christmas orange'. Of course it was a mandarin. More specifically…a Japanese mandarin. We got them at home too, but right now I can picture myself standing in the church unwrapping the orange from its green tissue paper and beginning the process of peeling it—challenging myself, naturally, to remove it in just one peel. Then carefully pulling it apart to separate the segments and prepare for the first taste. I absolutely loved the sweet, juicy, flavor contained in each one.
I’m not sure how long it’s been since I have had one, but production decreases and labour shortages have contributed to supply issues and massive price increases. There are other mandarins on the market. They’re fine and I do eat them. But. They. Are. Just. Not. The. Same.
Second on my nostalgia list is the delightful Sears' Wish Book. As children we couldn't wait for the day we arrived home from school to discover the catalogue had arrived. We poured over those pages again and again until the whole thing eventually flopped open on its own. The hundreds of pages were filled with toys, clothes, games, chocolates, Christmas trees, jewelry, lamps, appliances…you name it and you could find it.
Oh, the dreams that could be dreamed scanning the endless possibilities of dolls – ones that walked or talked or whose hair was perfect for styling, and all their accessories from houses to clothes to shoes. Scrolling down a screen today will never measure up to those delightful days turning page after page to discover one magical thing after another.
But forefront in my nostalgic musings is a nativity scene that sits firmly in the position of my all-time favorite. It wasn't flashy or spectacular but rather a simple mid-century cardboard diorama complete with background pieces, stable and characters.
The pieces could all lie flat in a box and when it came out at Christmas it was the job of my sister and I to put it together by reading the description of each piece and sliding the correct one into each slot where it stood to create the striking scene. I loved putting that nativity together each year. The colors were vibrant and the picture it created was beautiful. I still have one and there is something so stirring for me about taking it out of the box and handling each piece.
I read these were made between the late 1930s and early 1950s and sold for decades afterward. My mother-in-law once told me she remembered buying it for $1.00 and it is still in use today. On a visit to an online site recently I found someone selling theirs for $63.37, despite having two missing shepherds.
Why does this simple scene fill me with such joy each year? That's easy to answer. Because it was my introduction to the nativity as a child and it beautifully captures what Christmas is.
I readily admit I enjoy many aspects of how we culturally celebrate the season, but none of it matters if I don't approach the manger and rejoice in the one born as a baby, born to be King. The reality is that Christ the Savior is born. He is alive today. He is the mighty God, everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. And there's nothing nostalgic about that. He shall be called Immanuel, which means God with us. He very much is. Merry Christmas, everyone. That's my outlook.
