AS A WOMAN OF FAITH, the true meaning of Christmas rests for me in the birth of Jesus. Certainly, I appreciate and celebrate the secular aspects, too. But, above all, my focus centers on the Christ Child born in Bethlehem.
In early December, I joined a group of volunteers who were decorating my church, Trinity Lutheran in Faribault, for Advent. This was my first year participating as I don’t particularly enjoy putting up decorations. But I decided I could at least follow directions and do whatever I was told.
Turns out I rather enjoyed several hours of working with my faith family to hang greens and other festive decorations. My only stipulation—I wouldn’t climb a ladder.
When the guys climbed a ladder, pulling a vintage plastic Nativity set from a storage space, my new friend Nancy told me she’d been tasked with disposing of the scene (she planned to donate it to a downtown secondhand shop). I protested. Loudly. I wanted the Holy Family to stay at Trinity. And displayed.
I scanned the narthex for a spot, my eyes landing on a corner bookshelf. Perfect. I ran my idea past Leann, who was all in. She rolled the bookshelf to another space. And then several of us unboxed the trio of mother, father and child, actually two children. Another Nancy and I chose the darker-skinned baby with hands that appeared more life-like than the other plastic Jesus. And then Nancy tossed the rejected baby back in the box. Tossed. I protested loudly. In fun, of course. She picked up the second Jesus and laid him gently in the box.
Then I stepped into the cool December Saturday morning to shake dirt from the plain brown swatch of fabric found with the baby. Perfect, we all thought. Just like back in Bethlehem days—a basic, simple wrap to warm the new baby born in a barn.
The scene, though, was still missing something. A star, suggested Leann, who promised to bring one from home. Perfect.
Sunday morning I arrived for worship services to see the scene completed with a glowing star set upon a table and “The Christmas Story” children’s picture books artfully displayed on a round table for kids to borrow. The table represented the stable in Bethlehem. Marilyn’s idea. It worked.
Baby Jesus, though, was no longer wrapped in the basic brown cloth. Rather, he was snugged in a green and white quilt of stripes and circles stitched and tied by the Trinity Quilt Makers. Not exactly period authentic, but it would have to do. I was not in charge of decorating.
After church services, as I visited with friends, I observed a preschooler walk up to the Nativity set and take in the scene before him. My heart, my spirit, my soul filled with joy. This was exactly why I wanted Mary, Joseph and the Christ Child to remain at Trinity. I knew kids would be drawn to the corner scene of lighted figurines, to view the plastic Jesus so carefully laid in the manger under the watchful eyes of his loving parents.
© Copyright 2023 Audrey Kletscher Helbling


I am so glad you were there to save the true meaning of Christmas. the Nativity scene is beautiful and every child and adult will see the true meaning of the season. Thank you for being available to the Lord ! He needed you to show others the need to keep the lighted figures.
Joy to the World!
lov kathy
Awww, Kathy, so sweet of you to appreciate my saving plastic Jesus. Yes, I was meant to be there that Saturday morning.
thank you for saving the baby Jesus, and it’s hard when working with a group to have everyone on the same page. I teared up reading your last paragraph and it gave even more meaning to it all.
I’m thankful I was there to save baby Jesus. I recognized immediately that the Holy Family needed to be kept and displayed, especially for the little people among us.
wonderful!
❤ !
Thank you for rescuing the holy family and sharing the small child’s beautiful response. Volunteering always brings so much joy to both the givers and the recipients and it placed you right were you were meant to be! ♥️
Fran, you are right that volunteers get just as much out of giving as do the recipients. Absolutely, I was meant to be in church helping with decorating, even though that’s not really “my thing.” Seeing that wee one gazing at the family the next day reaffirmed why I insisted we keep and display the Holy Family.
Good work!
Thank you, Douglas!
This reminds me…A few years ago in December, I went up to our son’s house and the first thing my granddaughter asked me, even before saying hi, was “Grandma, will you help me find Jesus?”
Of course, little one. I will help you find Jesus!
She had lost the baby Jesus figure from her manger scene. 😉
I love your story about finding baby Jesus.
A lovely story; my granddaughters always arrange the nativity scene the way they think it should be and I don’t say a word. Their interaction is what I was hoping for.
Bernadette, thank you for sharing your Nativity story about your granddaughters. You and I share a similar perspective.
Oh my goodness—- I love it. You were right to save it!
Very thankful I was there to save Jesus! 🙂
Trinity without a nativity scene?! Have to ask my cousin about that. You were meant to volunteer this year, if only to HELP! Never have I known the need to be so great, lives are so full, workers stressed, even last minute travelers in this great weather. Important youth don’t “miss” a year of the true meaning full experience. God bless to your family and the “church”. The “church ladies” got this! FLS service was wonderful.
A blessed Christmas to you also, Sandra! I wish Trinity had a complete Nativity scene to set up along Fourth Street. It’s such a prime spot to get the message out about the Christ Child.
So glad you rescued them!
Me, too!