Test of Faith

Under my grandmother’s tree
a nativity set, stable thatched with real palm, kings bejeweled

and robed, babe in swaddling separate from his bed lined
with cellophane grass,  shredded straw strewn

over cotton snow, a white-light star aglow
through angel hair and pine. I played house, moved

the figures from place  to place, the art of display,
preparation I know now  for this of setting crèches
 

we sell in our stores. When I was six, I lost
the babe, no bigger

than a thumbnail. That loss,
preparation for sure,

for shoplifted babes,
always first in the holy family

to go missing.

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This poem is from Blooming Red, a chapbook in the Celebration Series of Chapbooks, co-authored with Magadalena Ball, another Red Room reader and poet.