cats in Bethlehem

I took down our tree on Sunday. Angelica as always mourned its passing. This year we were gone for part of Christmas visiting relatives and when we returned the girls still really wanted a tree. There was of course no place left to buy one so we walked down the railroad tracks and cut down a scrubby Virginia cedar. Ben and I decorated one of these the first year we were married so it brought back memories.




This year I kept the manger scene and the lights up. Our parish priest aked us to do this until Candlemas, February the second. Out cultural attention spans are so short. Inside me the desire to have all the decorations put away rebels. But perhaps this is a reminder to me that unlike all the tinselly cheer amidst box store stampedes, our celebration is more than just party decorations and stuffing ourselves with panettone and candy and goose.
I could learn a thing or two from our cat. She still sleeps in the manger scene every morning, happy to be with her Creator who is a baby. Just as he did two thousand years ago Baby Jesus chooses to be with the animals. He knows that they won't tire of adoration.
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