Today is January 6th - the twelfth day of Christmas. So while my punctual neighbors might think that my decorations have been up much too long, this delinquency, in my opinion, is completely justifiable. The twelfth day of Christmas marks Epiphany - a day which recognizes the wise men's visit to see the baby Jesus.
I sit and think about the wise men as I carefully take down the nativity - one of my favorite Christmas decorations. Then I think about my grandparents. The nativity set used to belong to them. It's not fancy or gilded. It won't be making an appearance on Pawn Stars anytime soon. It's simple. Just like they were.
The box which stores the nativity is carefully wrapped in paper. Although the edges have begun to tear, I choose to repair it rather than replace it. The wrapping tells part of the story - how, in my grandparent's lives, nothing was ever wasted. Wrapping paper was carefully removed from packages with a pocket knife so it could be used again and again.
The newspaper lining the box is circa 1999, the year I would have received it. Perhaps it's humble storage for a king - but appropriate storage for a stable.
As I reflect on the gifts that The Magi brought the baby Jesus, I think about the gift my grandparents have given me: a heritage of faith.