‘Twas the Love Before Christmas

6. Noah

Chapter six

Noah

M y parents semi-forced me to head to the Christmas festival with them the next day. I supposed it was their way to get me out and clear my head, but the last thing I wanted was to be surrounded by excited people. Well, at the very least, it gave me an excuse to drop off our nativity set for the live nativity event.

We arrived at the festival, and my parents started heading towards some of the activities set up.

“We’ll meet you back at the car when we’re done,” Mom said. “I don’t know how long it will take us to get through all the activities or who we’ll run into.”

“That’s all right. I can entertain myself,” I half-joked with her. “You two go have fun. If I get bored, I’ll go get food or something. Maybe walk down to the lake to see the frozen waves. Catch you later,” I said, giving them a wave and walking away.

The live nativity and the accompanying nativity sets were all to be set up later in the week in one of the large church buildings. They had a few volunteers inside manning the drop-off area for the nativity sets that hadn’t been gathered yet, and most had already been set up. The only thing missing now was the live nativity, but of course, that would take place the night of the event.

I was surprised to see Catherine waiting in line as I entered the building. It didn’t really surprise me—her parents were also probably enjoying the festival—but the sudden smile stretching across my face did surprise me.

She walked toward me, and just as she got close, she suddenly tripped on a piece of the carpet that had come up and fell forward. I was able to catch her with my free arm before she went down.

“Easy there, Catherine. We don’t need you to fall and hurt yourself.” I helped her straighten up. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. I’m all right,” she said as she looked at me shyly. “Hi, Noah. I suppose I don’t have to ask what brings you here?”

“Indeed,” I said as I held up the small box that held my family’s nativity set.

She also held a box, and her family’s nativity set appeared larger than ours. Maybe there was a larger stable in there than our nativity. Then again, folding crochet and fitting it into a smaller box was easy. The crochet stable was tied to a small, foldable metal frame that my great-grandfather had made for the set, and it all folded down to fit in the small box.

“What kind of nativity set do you have in that small box? I remember the set your parents would put up every Christmas but it wouldn’t fit in that size box,” Catherine said as she looked at the box. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

I opened the box with a bit of a laugh and pulled out the first piece on top: Mary. Mary had been a simple little crocheted doll that wore a blue dress; her eyes were downcast, and her long brown hair had been pulled back with a headband that matched the color of her dress. She had her arms cradled, ready to hold the baby Jesus.

“Wow. That’s beautiful.” Catherine looked at Mary and the rest of what I had in the box for a moment. “It’s clearly not something you’d pick up in the store.”

“My great-grandmother made it for my parents as a wedding gift. That was her hobby—her art, really. She dressed Mary in the color the bridesmaids wore. It was a special reminder of the day.” I smiled a little as I pulled another one of the dolls out to show her.

“Wow. Well, it’s certainly far more intricate than my parents’ set. If you’d hold Mary?”

She handed me back the Mary doll she had been holding, and I neatly packaged it all up in the box again as she opened the box she held. She leaned it closer so that I could see it.

Inside the box sat a wooden nativity set. It was simple, with a wooden open stable to put over Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus in a crib. There were no wise men or shepherds in her nativity, but there was a simple star of Bethlehem on the top of the stable.

“It’s also a very beautiful piece of work,” I said. “Did you buy it somewhere? Do you know?”

“My Mom told me her dad made it for them. He built the stable and carved the characters,” Catherine said. “But, I don’t think it takes away from the specialness of the one you have. Crocheting something like that takes a lot of time and attention to detail—not to mention finding something to hold up the stable each year.”

I laughed a little. She had a point, but there was something about how my great-grandmother had taken care to crochet it that I saw in how her grandfather had carved the characters and built the stable for her parents’ nativity.

“Well, they both have a measure of creativity that wouldn’t be found in anything in the stores,” I said, “but they are both handmade. I think that’s unique. Besides, they both represent the message of Christmas through the love that was put into creating each set.”

“So true,” Catherine replied.

By now, we had reached the front of the line. She handed over the box to one of the women running the drop-off table and confirmed all the details, as I did the same with another volunteer.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, Noah,” she said as she walked away.

I only nodded, not entirely sure what else to say. I stopped to use the restroom on the way out, so by the time I returned to the crowd that had gathered for the Christmas Festival, Catherine had disappeared into the crowd. My heart sank a little.

I had wanted to catch up a little more and hear about how life in California was going. While it may not have been the best, employment-wise, I wanted to hear everything about living so close to the ocean. If I remembered correctly, the area she had decided to settle down in was about a half-hour’s drive from the beach and about the same distance in the other direction from some of the large amusement parks in California. Was it as fun as it sounded? Had the move been worth it, despite all she had to give up to make it happen?

Instead of dwelling on it any longer, I started walking around to see what had been set up for this year's festival. It was always a collection of good food, competitions, activities, crafts, and general Christmas-spirited fun. Having a chance to share the Christmas spirit with everyone in town had been one of my favorite things about the Christmas Festival as a kid. Indigo Lake offered a lot, but this was when I had always seen the town embody the spirit of the holidays.

I looked around to see what kinds of competitions were being offered this year, as they changed from year to year. The prizes were of nominal value, mostly coupons or small gift baskets, so it was all about just having fun. Even the judging was arbitrary for the competitions. Most didn’t hold a grudge about who won because there was always next year.

One of the first things I saw was a booth to decorate sugar cookies with royal icing. I was more of a gingerbread house man, but the royal icing had always been a challenge I enjoyed as a high schooler. It was thinner than the icing used on a gingerbread house, and I found that my cookies often ended up looking like they belonged on a Halloween tray instead of a Christmas tray. Maybe I’d come back and give it a try this year, just to see if my competitive nature would give me an edge to figure it out.

Walking on, I found a bunch of other things to do: craft popcorn garlands, decorate Christmas ornaments, and even paint wooden snowmen. There were a thousand choices. I can’t say I really wanted to do most of the activities, but watching others do them was fun.

I finally decided to turn around and head toward the wooden snowman booth. It sounded like fun, and the snowmen had already been painted white. All I needed to do was add eyes, a nose, a mouth, and whatever other fun accessories I wanted. While I wasn’t much of an artist, a baseball-playing snowman sounded like a fun challenge to paint.

While thinking about how I would do this, I ran right into someone.

“My apologies. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I’m so sorry, Ma’am.”

“It’s all right.”

I immediately recognized the voice.