Monday, February 05, 2007


(This work comes from a monthly assignment where the members were asked to write a short work using the word "Christmas".)

Jane's Dad had carved the Nativity figures from Sunlight soap bars the Christmas she was nine, when there'd been no money to spare for decorations. Her Mum had been cross when Jane hid them and she'd had nothing to use for the wash.

In later and more prosperous years they had still set them out under the tree. It became a family tradition, and Jane's own children had known never to handle them.

But one year she missed Joseph and discovered her small grandson washing his hands with the old carpenter. She scolded him until he gave it back, all frothy and lopsided.

"But Grandma, didn't Jesus get dirty hands when he was a little boy?"

Jane looked at the hard old soap in her hand, started to explain, and stopped. Then she smiled. "I'm sure he did. Here."

Christmas, after all, was about a child.

Monya Clayton,
Writers’ Group, Clifton


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