Train Ornaments and More Baby Jesus

I went to Cass' school today to show the class how to make an ornament. Small rectangular blocks we hardly use. Felt windows. A pushpin smokestack. Button wheels.

I chided myself a few times for volunteering, but seeing his face this morning as we cut and glued together--so proud of me, of our efforts--it was the best Christmas present I could ever ask for. "Look, guys--look what my mom did! Mama, I love you!" So free with love at this age. I know eventually, those outbursts will be replaced with "Stop-mom-get-out-of-here-leave-me-alone"-isms. He'll probably want me to drop him off down the block.

I told the kids that Santa has the biggest Christmas tree in the world, and that it stretches into the clouds, and that he needs every single elf to help him decorate it. That they use all the leftover scraps from the toys to make ornaments. They gasped in unison.

When Cass came home from school, the first thing he wanted to do was hang his train on the tree. And later, snuggling in bed and reading Christmas books, he quizzed me with a rapid-fire barrage of questions about christmas trees and christmas and presents and Baby Jesus. Especially Baby Jesus. So I gave him the story: the inn, the manger, the birth, the angels. He was silent the entire time, just nodding, like he understood everything I wasn't saying. That he is wise enough already to recognize a metaphor and all its nuances and contradictions and realize that while good men kill each other over religion, there is still hope in human kindness. And he said: "Mom, I know! So Baby Jesus is a Super Hero, right?!"