Written By F. Ferguson, Staff Writer
On the Way to Bethlehem
Sometimes I marvel at how much faith the Magi had in their GPS system, a “star in the east.” Somewhere in North Fillmore I’m trying to find a way for a car to hop over the river in pitch darkness while cursing the confounding glowing navigation screen for rotating and throwing my feeble spatial sense into a tailspin. I wonder if the Magi ever had to backtrack. Like I do.
A propitious trail of taillights serves as my Star of Bethlehem, leading me to “the barn at the Stehly ranch.”
The Stehly Ranch
Down the one-lane road through a grove of orange trees, Sam Alviz and Thomas Rabb wielding flashlights and Edgar Alviz on a four-wheeler corral cars into the makeshift parking lot. Sam gives me directions to the barn. “Just go up the road—you’ll see it,” he assures me. I set out on foot into the darkness.
Finally, the warm lights of the house start shining through the trees. So far, there are about 20 adults and a few kids gathered in the paved clearing. The shed is lit up inside with Christmas lights strewn across the hay and topped with a lit tinsel-lined star. Bundles of hay as well as benches and chairs circle the front of the barn: the scene is set.
Exploring the Grounds
Bearing a box of sweets, I make my way towards the house, following the glowing trail of luminaria on the ground. Inside, it’s warm and cozy—the scent of hot apple cider fills the air as guests visit in the den and others setting up their crock-pots in the dining room. A poncho-sporting Marie Alviz directs me to the dessert table before cheerfully returning to labeling the guests’ dishes.
The flyer had said that rehearsal for all those interested would be a whole 15 minutes before the performance, so there’s time to check out the wings of the stage. On the patio a small horde of actors rehearse… their costumes. A lady helps dress the final magus in what looks like heavy woven drapes while another Wise Man, wearing a black feather boa among his other accoutrements, looks on approvingly. Fifteen young shepherds in robes of fabric scraps watch over, and scamper with, a tail-wagging beagle, while four colorful angels flit about. A girl in a partial butterfly costume considerately asks a younger angel wearing a pink princess dress, “Do you want different wings?”
The Performance
I wander out to the shed to secure a good spot beneath the giant sycamore tree. The faint strains of a carol drift over from the direction of the house as the procession of actors slowly approach and the audience joins in singing Silent Night. Off to the side, Regina Nuñez holds a flashlight for Former Mayor Scott Lee to read the narrative centered on the Gospels according to Luke and Matthew. Rebecca and Miguel Enriquez as Mary and Joseph enter the barn, placing Baby Jesus (their infant Marco) in the manger. Waves of actors gather around the Holy Family: the shepherds, the angels, and finally the magi. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing weaves into the narration, and O Come All Ye Faithful crowns it. One of the shepherds holds up what might be a heavy-duty halogen lamp to help illuminate the scene. Photos of the living tableau are taken at the picturesque finale. Regina leads a final prayer with a reminder of the anticipatory meaning of Advent before calling out, “Let’s go in and eat!”
Feasting
The whole crowd, now over a hundred strong, migrates towards the abundant baskets of bread and half-dozen crock-pots surrounding an Advent wreath. Hot apple cider is ladled out and the rooms begin to fill with people balancing bowls of soups and plates piled with dessert. Mrs. Mary Stehly stands near the entry, welcoming people inside. She chats with the guests; amazingly, she recalls our passing conversation from more than a year ago. At her urging, I join the crock-pot conga line and pick up what I learn is focaccia, a savory square of yeast, olive oil, and rosemary. At the five tables set up in the living room, people of all ages enjoy each other’s company, catching up with old friends and making new ones. At the table near a glass case containing statues of Our Lady of Guadalupe, I meet 90-year-old Miriam Harnage. Soon, Sam and Thomas come around to gallantly offer guests some much-appreciated apple cider.
When I get up to search for some fabled peppermint bark, I bump into Mr. Jim Stehly himself. His trademark twinkling eyes seem to light up even brighter, and he calls me by name as he grasps my hand. “How good to see you!” he cries with such joy that it makes me feel as though I’m the guest of honor. This warmth and heartfelt congeniality undoubtedly contributes to the reputation this tradition enjoys in these parts.
Tradition
Regina has run the Community Nativity Play since 1994, if not earlier. Each production has been unique, with differences ranging from location to stable construction to the number of cast members and live animals involved. Even when the event had to be canceled due to poor weather, the effort always has been a labor of love, bringing the community together. Marie recalls early versions of the affair with a stable built behind the Fillmore Library, and of the 25 people who’d attend, half would be her family. Having been reincarnated The event now has a large loyal following of families from church communities all over town that return year after year.
Legacy
Being surrounded by families and neighbors visiting over good food, sharing good times and making good memories around the fireplace, it feels exactly as the flyer promised: “All are welcome: Young and Old, Royal and Lowly.” The Stehlys have literally opened their home (and their barn) to the community, friends and strangers alike—and even to the Baby Jesus. What a shining example they provide of hospitality. Smiling faces abound tonight, setting the stage for a happy holiday season.
At the end of the night Miriam quips, “You know what I hate about going out? Going home!” I completely agree, especially when it’s time to leave such a cozy and welcoming place. Then again, the Magi, having met their Savior, went home rejoicing. Incidentally, just as they departed by another way,” this time around, there are no GPS glitches going home. I even have a hunk of peppermint bark for the journey.
Merry Christmas!
