There is a world of difference between truth and facts. Facts can obscure the truth. Maya Angelou
Does it really matter if the Christmas story is factual? If a pregnant Mary really rode on a donkey and gave birth in a stable? If shepherds did, in fact, see choirs of angels? If a star actually guided Wise Men to the infant?
The truth, for Christians, is that God truly experienced human life, not as a king or a mighty warrior, but as a vulnerable baby born to a teenage mom, a refugee, one of the undeserving poor.
Growing up in a farming family of ten kids Christmas was not the commercial venture it is now. We rarely had a Christmas tree, though we did have a few decorations and lights. We also had a creche (which did not survive ten children). A Christmas Eve tradition was listening to a dramatized Christmas story on a LP record. My mother, who had two babies at the beginning of January did not enjoy thinking of riding a donkey in her state! We may each have received a gift (before we reached our teen years), and we all received a plate of candy, nuts, an orange and grapes — a wonderful treat! — on Christmas morning.
My in-laws had quite different customs. I learned there about Advent and Advent candles. When Volker was young it was the Christ Child who came on Christmas Eve while the family was at church and left behind a beautiful tree and gifts. His family too had a creche, but it was not touched by children.
When Simon was born I decided I wanted a creche that children could play with. When he was two years old I found a pattern in a magazine and over the next several years I made the pieces.
I have since lost the pattern, but these little bean-bag dolls have been played with by many children over the years. (A dear friend from the Middle East refers to the shepherds and Wise Men as the Mullahs and Ayatollahs.) I am so thrilled that now my grandchildren will also have that opportunity.