BROKEN MIRACLES..
Click For Audio Version
A week before Christmas, every year of my childhood, my grandmother would set out a small, quite old, and rather battered creche.
“I’ve had it for years and years,” she’d always say,” and every year I try to add a piece.”
It didn’t occur to me, at the age of 4 or 5, that we boasted a rather exorbitant number of shepherds, angels, and lambs with this practice. Instead, I eagerly awaited the yearly addition.
Breathless
A day or two before Christmas, my grandmother herded me into the family car. By the time we arrived at the 5 and 10 cent store, I was in breathless anticipation, as I had been told that this year, I could choose the added piece to her creche scene.
The process was a long one. Grandma carefully lifted down the small pieces for me to inspect from the counter, one by one. I bypassed the wisemen in their finery and angels glowing with sparkles glued to their wings and costing a full 19 cents. Some shepherds had tiny staffs that you could slip from their grasps and then put back in the slots near their hands. Grandma already had two Marys, though only one made an appearance each year, so I passed over the fleeting thought of choosing a lovely Mary in a pale blue and creme robe.
Then a broken miracle
Then, on the sectioned wooden counter, I spied the lambs myself and reached up to cradle—the broken one. He had a bit of soft flocking covering a minuscule back and a tiny tail, and the smallest of ears, but had only three legs.
“He’s hurt,” I said softly, “I choose him.”
“No,” Grandma said, ” You don’t want him. He’s broken.”
“I do, ” I whispered, never before daring to correct Grandma. “No one else will want him.”
The clerk smiled. “I’ll give him to you for a nickel because of the leg. Lambs are usually a dime.”
That decided grandma.
My grandmother paid him, while I was busy still cradling the tiny lamb in my hands.
On Christmas Eve, I set the broken lamb right next to Jesus, where, I thought, he’d never be lonely or unwanted again.
It was then, I saw that leaning against Jesus, the broken lamb could stand perfectly!
In the nearly seventy years that have passed since, I have seen that miracle repeat itself countless times.
At Jesus’ side, ALL broken things are always welcome.
It is the only place where love can make all of us
beautiful ….
..and fully whole.
Click Here for Audio Version