The Open Door at the Manger - #5989
Thursday, December 24, 2009
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It was Christmas Eve, and the Hutchcraft family was acting out the Christmas story. Our daughter was Mary, with a towel draped over her head. Our oldest son was Joseph, bathrobe and all. Our then two-year-old son was the closest we could come to a baby; he was in the giant laundry basket. I was, of course, an angel dressed in a white sheet, sitting celestially on the back of the couch. And my wife - well, she wanted to be a sheep. So she was crawling around the living room floor with our sheepskin rug draped over her, doing her very best "baaas." And the doorbell rang. It was two teenage girls from our youth group. Their folks were home getting drunk, and they were wondering if they could come to our house for a little while. When they came in, our Christmas players were in full gear, baa-ing and all. The girls looked at one another, wondering if we were in any better shape than their parents. But, hey, the door was open and we invited them right into our Christmas.