Losing Jesus
When my family moved from Atlanta to Columbia three years ago, we could identify only one thing lost in the move. Baby Jesus.
He was the centerpiece, obviously, of a hand-carved, olive wood crèche. Given to us by a friend after a trip to Israel and Palestine, the pieces came carefully wrapped in an Arabic newspaper. Although my husband and I each brought our own manger scenes into our marriage, this exquisitely beautiful one from the Holy Land quickly assumed the prominent place on the living room mantel.
William Placher[/caption]