During the Great Depression, my grandfather would collect pieces of coal that fell off dump trucks rumbling through alleys in Detroit and use them to heat the house for a few days. This gleaning habit also included picking up scraps of wood he would find in the garbage. Some of these he used to fashion a simple stable for a Christmas Nativity creche.
It’s made of six pieces of wood, with a tiny hole in the top for an angel suspended on a wire.
Any figurines of shepherds, sheep and the Baby Jesus from the 1930s are long gone. But the significance of the stable seems to grow every year, and has become one of the best ways for me to remember the real meaning of Christmas. Even in the midst of hard times, including the death of an infant son in 1929, my grandfather kept the faith.
When times improved, my grandfather could finally afford an oil furnace for his house. No more scrounging for scraps. He opened a bar on Michigan Avenue with his wife Rozalia, and became a successful entrepreneur. But little expressions of his Catholic faith continued.
He would always tip his hat (back when men wore fedoras) when he drove past a church. The centerpiece of the dining room in his house was a statue of the Infant of Prague he adorned with custom jewelry, including a tiny diamond ring on the Infant’s raised fingers. He rarely missed Sunday Mass at St. Cunegunda Church, and he always knelt down and said a prayer before bedtime. Donations were made to help build a church in his home village in Poland. The Christmas decorations became larger and more fanciful. Ever the craftsman, he made a giant star with blue lights that adorned the peak of the home he built, largely by hand, on St. Lawrence on Detroit’s west side.
Today, I’ve put a simple and inexpensive Nativity scene inside my grandfather’s stable. A chipped angel with the scroll “Gloria in Excelsis Deo” dangles from the roof, a remnant from an old Nativity set my husband had as a child. It seems to be a fitting addition. The homemade stable stands in stark contrast to the consumerist and commercial Christmas that includes Nativity sets adorned with crystals and exotic wood that cost thousands of dollars.
I like to pause in the evening and find some quiet time to spend before the creche. Pope Francis has said “in its genuine poverty, the creche helps us to rediscover the true richness of Christmas.” I think about my grandfather and how he met financial and personal challenges with creativity and trust – and hope his humble stable inspires me to do the same.
Anita's Way 
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