25 Days of Advent: Away in a Manger

Away in a Manger

Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,
The little Lord Jesus lay down His sweet head;
The stars in the sky looked down where he lay,
The little Lord Jesus, asleep on the hay.

The cattle are lowing, the Baby awakes,
But little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes;
I love Thee, Lord Jesus! Look down from the sky,
And stay by my cradle till morning is nigh.

Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay
Close by me forever, and love me, I pray;
Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care,
And fit us for heaven to live with Thee there.


Such a sweet little song, a Christmas hymn for little voices. Like Jesus Loves Me, This I Know, it is a song that teaches children how much Jesus loves them, and to love him in return. Did I get teary-eyed just now thinking of my own little child singing this song? Maybe. (Yes.)

Jesus did love children, and in fact told us grown-ups to be more like them: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me." (Mt 18:3-5)

With that in mind, here is the telling of the Christmas story from The Jesus Storybook Bible - which, if you are wondering, is hands down the best children's Bible out there.

Sure enough, it was just as the angel had said. Nine months later, Mary was almost ready to have her baby.

Now Mary and Joseph had to take a trip to Bethlehem, the town King David was from. But when they reached the little town, they found every room was full. Every bed was taken. "Go away!" the innkeepers told them. "There isn't any place for you."

Where would they stay? Soon Mary's baby would come. They couldn't find anywhere except an old, tumbledown stable. So they stayed where the cows and the donkeys and the horses stayed.

And there, in the stable, amongst the chickens and the donkeys and the cows, in the quiet of the night, God gave the world his wonderful gift. The baby that would change the world was born. His baby Son.

Mary and Joseph wrapped him up to keep him warm. They made a soft bed of straw and used the animals' feeding trough as his cradle. And they gazed in wonder at God's Great Gift, wrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger.

Mary and Joseph named him Jesus, "Emmanuel" - which means "God has come to live with us." Because, of course, he had.

That same night, in amongst the other stars, suddenly a bright new star appeared. Of all the stars in the dark vaulted heavens, this one shone clearer. It blazed in the night and made the other stars look pale beside it.

God put it there when his baby Son was born - to be like a spotlight. Shining on him. Lighting up the darkness. Showing people the way to him.

You see, God was like a new daddy - he couldn't keep the good news to himself. He'd been waiting all these long years for this moment, and now he wanted to tell everyone.

Maniacs and Red Ferns: Books That Rocked Your Childhood

Working in the bookstore continues to keep books on my brain! As I've spent more and more time in the kids section, I've been thinking about the books that meant the most to me as a child. I don't just mean children's picture books, of which I have a long and varied list of favorites. I'm thinking more of those books that I encountered as an older child, the first and best loved volumes that pierced my child-sized heart and stretched my child-sized imagination. Two in particular come to mind for me.


The first time I remember understanding my mom as person beyond "my mom" was when she read aloud to my sister and I the entirety of Wilson Rawls' Where the Red Fern Grows. I have the most vivid memory of sitting next to my sister in the bench seat of our minivan, with my mom turned slightly in her front passenger seat, reading to us. She came to the last few pages of the book and I watched, transfixed with simultaneous wonder and horror, as she began to cry. She kept reading through her tears, her voice cracking and her nose sniffling. We cried too, for the death and sadness and love and loyalty of Old Dan and Little Ann, and for our mother, a real woman who could be moved to tears by the wonderful power of the written word. Billy's first encounters with faith and death were mine, too. I have loved that book ever since.


If I could force all my customers at Borders to leave our "independent reader" section holding one book, it would most likely be Maniac Magee. Author Jerry Spinelli is one of those rare types that just seems to "get" kids, and wow did he ever get me with this one. This book broke my heart in the first pages and kept right on breaking it til the end. Family, home, love, hatred, fear, innocence... all the shattering and magnificent and surreal parts of growing up. Maniac was the first literary character I loved and, despite his magic, or maybe because of it, the most real.

The most powerful children's books are never patronizing. The fears and joys of youth are celebrated and explored and revealed in their pages, and the authors who write these books understand and respect the essence of childhood. That is why the best of these works are timeless. Reading them at 20, at 40, at 80 is as wonderful, even if in a different way, as reading them at 10.

What was the book (or, if you're like me, books plural) that rocked your childhood and why? Do share in the comments!

Heh heh heh heh.

So if I was this boy's parent would I ground him or give him a high five? Maybe both? Add this to my list of things I'm going to have to stop saying when we have kids.

via OfficeTally

Oooh.

When I first heard they were making a live-action version of the beloved children's book Where the Wild Things Are I thought "Why?" and "How?" Then today while browsing the interwebs I saw this:


I think I love it. The monster looks, somehow, as if it just walked off the pages of the book. The muted color scheme is so perfect and again, reminds me of the book's illustrations. Think of the contrast to advertising for other kids' movies! I also looooooove the typeface and simplicity of the tagline. If the poster is a portend of things to come in the film, this might be one of the movies I'm really looking forward to this fall.

Logan

My in-laws came to visit this weekend, and brought along Ben's brother and our nephew Logan. It was a fun experience, to have a three-year-old running (literally, always running) around our lives this weekend. Logan loves slides, Lightning McQueen, and anything you are eating or drinking. He's very articulate and likes to learn names, and he's remarkably agreeable for a toddler. Like when you ask him something, he has this funny way of answering, "Sure. Yea. Of course." Pretty adorable.

Things My Children Will Never Do, #193

Scene:

{int. Olive Garden restaurant; crowded with people waiting for tables}

HEATHER: Oh my gosh, that kid almost punched his dad in the crotch.

{Jon, Ben & Amy turn their heads to see child, apx. 8 years old, in confrontation with his father. They overhear and observe...}

OBSCENELY BRATTY YET ADMITTEDLY ARTICULATE CHILD: Get your hands off me!

DAD: ...

O.B.Y.A.A.C.: I'm gonna punch you! I already told you twice!

DAD: ...

O.B.Y.A.A.C.: What more do you want from me?!

DEFEATED LOOKING MOM BEING CLIMBED ON BY TWO DAUGHTERS: ...

DAD: ...

{Fade out.}

______________________________

No, seriously. That happened. We watched it go down this past weekend when we went to Olive Garden with J&H. Shocked, the four of us discussed how we would have been bodily carried from the restaurant by our parents at the first shade of such behavior. And honestly, I wouldn't ever have even dreamed to talk to my parents that way, let along take a swing at one of them. I guess, I... I don't know, respected them?! Shocking! On the one hand, I felt bad for his parents, but on the other... good grief, how regular an occurrence is his behavior that it literally warranted ZERO reaction from them? The dad was restraining the kid's hands and I guess he was telling him to stop it, but... just... wow.

So, added to the list of things my children will never do (have a computer in their room, enter child beauty pageants, become Cubs fans) is threaten me with physical violence in the lobby of an Olive Garden.

Although, upside to the situation, we walked away with a sweet new catchphrase: "I'm gonna punch you. I already told you twice." To be used in an enraged voice for mock-threats. Ex:

"Ben, take out the trash or I'm gonna punch you. I already told you twice."