Years ago a family in Alpine began sponsoring
a Live Nativity
in memory of their wife and mother who passed away from cancer.
Hundreds stand in frigid cold each year, awaiting the shuttle to drive them up the hillside
to the family's farm.
Hundreds watch the Roman Soldier on pacing on horseback, interrogating, searching for the newborn child.
Hundreds walk through old-town Bethlehem and see the wares sold there.
Hundreds see the animals of olden days warming in their stalls.
Hundreds feel the hush in the crude stable where mother holds her baby.
Hundreds walk through icy pastures to feel the Spirit
of the First Christmas Morn.
What shall I do in memory of the Great One?
What shall I do in memory of the Great One?
