Away in a Manger

The comfort and joy of a humble Nativity scene

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I SEE THE MANGERS every few miles, scenes molded in plastic and propped in yards. Like in the tale of The Grinch, I can almost feel my shriveled heart swell and thump in my chest each time.

Some things just ride easy in my mind. Christmas parades, a lifetime past, still circle there. The fact that Santa Claus had to be dragged by a tractor did not make him any less real.

“Why they got to haul his sleigh on a flatbed trailer?” I asked my mother, 60 years ago.

“That's ‘cause it ain’t snowed,” Mama replied, logically.

It is the same feeling with greeting cards that have redbirds on them, with snow sprayed from a can, and with Dean Martin—half drunk—singing “Silent Night.”