Christmas is, after all, a time for giving. And I had given myself
a lovely new wireless speaker, which now takes pride of place on the bookshelf
in our lounge.
I was busy showing it off to Alex and her friend Rachel, who
had stayed over following the party. Running through various songs, cranking up
the volume to demonstrate the lovely, smooth bass, and gorgeous mid-tones.
Yes, they were suitably impressed. Until, that is, Alex
suddenly asks “Where’s the nativity?”
“The what?” I respond, searching through a playlist to find
another song that will adequately demonstrate the prowess of my new gadget.
“The nativity. It’s normally on the shelf, where you’ve put
the speaker.”
This was a correct observation, but until then I had forgotten
all about the nativity, which I guessed was still packed away somewhere
upstairs in the loft. Although I’m not a religious person by any means, I did
feel a slight pang of guilt. Poor baby Jesus, Joseph and Mary, and the sheep
and wise men all packed away up there in the cold, damp loft, all dark and
alone. How could I be so thoughtless? So
I turn up the volume a bit. There, I think, they can hear it too now.
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