The Crèche at Regina Laudis | Local Treasure

If the crèche at the Abbey of Regina Laudis strikes you as a little out of place, there’s a good reason. The austere Yankee barn that houses it is a world away from its previous home. Handcrafted by artisans in Naples, the intricate nativity scene was presented as a coronation gift to Victor Amadeus II, king of Sardinia, in 1720. It remained among Italian nobility until it was purchased by Loretta Hines Howard, an artist and collector, in 1949. She immediately donated it to what was then a fledgling Benedictine abbey in, fittingly, Bethlehem, Connecticut (although the nuns insist the name is a coincidence).

The creche takes a few liberties with the traditional nativity story. Instead of a Judean village, Bethlehem appears here somewhere on the coast of Italy. The stable has been replaced by Corinthian columns, and the traditional kings and shepherds are joined by a whole host of other characters, who have shed their New Testament robes for 18th-century knickers and coats. In one corner, some peasants argue over the contents of a stew pot. In another, a noblewoman walks her whippet on a leash. The crowd is puzzling at first, though it may serve a distinct purpose. “For as many people as there are, there are attitudes toward the birth of Christ,” says Sister Angele Arbib, who helps care for the creche. She points out some figures who seem reverential, others who seem distracted or disbelieving: “It’s so representative. When people come here to see the creche, they identify with someone in here.”

And people of all faiths do come to see it. The mass of Christmas pilgrims has returned after a recent restoration had taken the creche out of public view for three years. Conservators from New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art painstakingly repaired each of the 68 figures and the tiny hand-sewn outfits they wear. The results are stunning. The crèche now stands as a testament to the continued support of the community of nuns, preservationists, and believers that has formed around it. It’s fitting. After all, what is a nativity other than a story of people coming together?