When I was young, our church would put on a "Live Nativity" scene each Christmas.  Essentially, this meant that several of the teenagers would dress up in bathrobes with towels on their heads in imitation of St. Joseph, the wise men, the shepherds and of course the Virgin Mary.  Hay would be strewn around the actors and perhaps a few farm animals would complete the scene.  This event would often take place in the parking lot after the candlelight service on Christmas Eve.

The candlelight service itself always seemed to be filled with a bit of magic, especially when I was young and not involved in the presentation itself.  Hymns and carols were sung, the minister might give a short reflection and then each person lit a candle as we sang Silent Night. There was, I still believe, something very holy in the that moment when we tipped our candle towards our neighbor, grabbed a piece of his light and passed it on…not contrived but still and solemn.  

At home, we had a little bell shaped knick knacky Christmas decoration with a long gold tassel that played Silent Night when wound up.  I remember playing with that tassel and thinking about the "round yon virgin."  Those words never ceased to fascinate me as a child.  I knew it was about the Virgin Mary, and I knew that she was very special and had given birth to Jesus.  But, she was mysterious, floating on an outer edge of candlelight.  

We would leave the church, with our candles lit singing Joy to the World.  As much as I loved the almost rollicking nature of this hymn, I treasured the Silent Night moments more.  In my mind’s eye, I can see that "live nativity" scene as I first remember it.  There was a teenaged boy with a 70’s hair-do and just a bit of fuzz on his face who told our family, "Merry Christmas," his breath making smoky clouds in the cold air.  Of course, there was the girl playing the Virgin Mary…she was quiet…shy and in a role she perhaps didn’t really want to play.

I wanted to know more about this woman as a child.  Why was she so special that God chose her to be the mother of Jesus?  How old was she?  Was she scared when it came time to have her baby?  The questions would pile up in my mind.  I’m not sure if I ever asked them out loud or if I silently pondered them.  At one point I even imagined being the Virgin Mary…what would that be like?

And here I am, 30 odd years later still in awe of the Virgin.  Coming to know her again as an Orthodox Christian, re-awakened my first wonderings about the Virgin Mary.  I reflect on her life often during this season, which seems meet as we are preparing to celebrate the birth of her son.  

Yet she still seems to float on the other side of a veil of mysterious candlelight.  Maybe she always will for me…there’s just something about her…