Many years ago, I painted ceramics. There was a great shop close to me, and I spent hours there, creating all kinds of stuff.
My most favorite thing is the Old Christmas Village I made in 1985.
I have put it out every Christmas since and once I had children it became the centerpiece of our Christmas decorations.
My daughter would sit for hours and move the little people around, playing “Christmas Village.” It was so sweet watching her take them shopping and caroling.
Right about the time she grew out of playing with it, my oldest son came along and was just as fascinated with it as his sister had been.
Except…
He brought his green army men out and would spend hours invading the village, defending, and occupying the village.
He hid the people of the village behind the Church and placed his army men in strategic points around town.
Watching him play with the village was really different than watching his sister but it was just as satisfying.
My youngest son came along and joined his brother in the Christmas Village war games, only he brought trucks and tanks to move troops around. Luckily his transport vehicles didn’t fit on the village itself so they were driven around on the table in front of the village.
The oldest outgrew it and the youngest continued on for a few more years and once he outgrew playing with it the village became just a part of our Christmas decorations.
This year I set the village up and there seems to be some problems.
The light in the Christmas tree in the middle blinks.
It’s never blinked before but this year it blinks.
And two other lights no longer work at all.
So, Troy, the oldest boy and I were in the living room last night and Troy noticed the light blinking.
“That light has never blinked before, right?”
“That’s right. The blinking is new.”
We all walked over to take a closer look and he said “I think the villagers are trying to send out a distress signal.”
The oldest cracked up and said “Yep, the war was hard on this place.”
The light in the church no longer works.
The light in the Bakery no longer works. (Not the bulbs, the sockets)
On closer inspection, I noticed that the sign on the front of the bakery was completely gone.
That’s when the oldest got a sheepish look on his face and told me that a mortar had taken it out. He then went on to say that the child who’s arm was blown off was a sad casualty of war.
I asked what happened to the top of the Christmas tree and he said “Oh, that was epic!”
His brother had troops on the ground, and he came in with a surprise air attack. The bomb – a Lego – was being held onto the bottom of an airplane. The oldest swears he meant to blow up the trucks on the table but he let go too soon and took out the top of the Christmas tree.
The broken windows in the Church are from spit balls being sling-shotted at the army men. The chip on the backside of one of the trees is from an attempt to drive an army truck into the village gone wrong.
I was really surprised at how much the village has deteriorated but I was ASTONISHED that the oldest remembers exactly what happened to everything.
He said that every Christmas he and his brother would expect to get yelled at for breaking something but that I watched them play and never noticed the broken stuff.
No, I did not. My sons were particularly destructive children, and I was just glad they were not catching the house on fire.
Part of me wants to rehab the village so hopefully one day my grandchildren can enjoy it.
But then again, that little war-torn Christmas Village seems extra special as it is. It has a history that makes me smile every time I see it.
But I am positive Troy is right – the blinking light must be an SOS coming from the villagers.
