Nativity

Margaret M Baker reflects on a touching scene

by Margaret M Baker 21st December 2012

A fine rain was steadily, silently, falling: the kind of rain only known in places like the Lake District; the kind that can continue for hours, saturating the country and all who venture forth. It was silent; as silent as falling snow would be in another season.  Maybe it was appropriate that we were staying in a building that had once been a stable block, now converted into simple bedrooms – appropriate for the little scene that we were about to witness.