Need a camel to ride

“I never thought being the Christian Education director would include being asked, ‘do you want camel to ride or just to pet?’” my daughter shook her head in disbelief over just one detail for her church’s Christmas Fest. I missed her first Christmas Fest so I was determined to go this year. “Wow! The parking lot is full!” hubby said. Dodging rain we followed the signs to the Living Nativity inside the church. Inside the sanctuary we encountered a child filled bouncy house. The rain had moved everything inside. A tour guide directed us to the first of scene. “Here we have Mary going about her everyday activities. Looks like she is having lunch.” Mary swallowed quickly as a chubby Angel Gabriel joyfully announced, “You are highly favored among women. You will give birth to the Son of God who will save people from their sins.” She paused, turned around to leave saying, “I need to go tell Joseph.” Gabriel walked away. In the next set the next, very pregnant, Mary stood near a docile donkey held in place by Joseph. “Where are you going?” the guide asked. “To Bethlehem to register for taxes,” Joseph replied. “They walked for a week,” the guide said. “Does anyone want to pet the donkey?” The guide stood back. Children joined the animal standing in hay spread over a tarp protecting the cement floor. A few steps away we observed a nativity scene with sheep, shepherds, angels and the holy family. Hidden beneath the sheep bonnet, Caroline, my daughter’s oldest girl, kept a hand on the miniature cow. Her sister Daisy stood high as the angel who appeared to the shepherds saying, “do not be afraid, I bring you good news of great joy!” With all the animals, the people crowded around the doll in the manger in front of another Mary and Joseph. “There’s the cow, a llama and extra goat to pet,” the guide shook his head at the non-biblical arrangement. (“For some reason instead of two sheep they brought a goat and a sheep,” my daughter shook her head remembering all the phone calls and papers with specific requests.) Our final stop landed us in front of the holy family represented by grandson Eli and his girlfriend Luci holding a doll. The three Magi held their gifts. “The wise men brought gold, incense and myrrh,” the guide said. “C’mon, Grandma, don’t you want to pet the camel,” Eli said holding its rope snug. I reached out and touched its wet shaggy mane. Evidently, it too had arrived during the the rain. “Last year’s camel was chill and knelt down. This one kept wandering away and nipped Luci,” my daughter said. Next year she might have to request a vegetarian camel. “Now you go and tell someone.that Jesus Christ has been born,” our tour guide said pointing us to the activity booths and free hot dogs and chips.. In the activity room, I sampled herbs, spices and dried fruit. I wrote our names in Greek on wooden ornaments and watched children make wooden toys using magic markers and pipe cleaners. I met our youngest granddaughter Katie beside the “Happy birthday, Jesus” cake walk. She joined me at the picture booth grinning wide between her festively painted cheeks. Hubby and I gathered hot dogs, chips, cheese, pretzel and drinks about the time my daughter began reminding the 75 volunteers “We all will clean up in 30 minutes.” We still had time to watch son-in-love Jacob supervise kids entering the cardboard maze and visit with the woman spinning wool from a shaggy sheep. She carded wool, rolled it into a thin tube and then expertly fed it into the spinning wheel. Such a tedious process, but one used for centuries before and after Christ. Sharon is already making notes for next year which probably will include one stipulation a la Luci, “A camel that does not nip.”