I come from a line of crafty women. Both grandmothers were creative, artistic people. From my Dad's mother came rolled-paper beads and crocheted dish cloths. From my Mom's mother came painting and well, an unusual folk-art sense. It is that creativity that gave birth to a set of figurines depicting the Nativity.
Granny worked for the Celanese corporation as a quality control technician testing samples of 'dope', the airplane-cement like material that was spun into fibers for cigarette filters. Once the testing was complete, the mostly-full tube of dope was thrown away. Granny saw an opportunity and used the residual dope as a media to cover aluminum foil armatures to make Mary, Joseph, shepherds and Magi.
But Jesus...Jesus wasn't made from dope. I'm not sure why, but she chose to make him from some sort of clay. The manger was foil, dope and coffee stir sticks. But the baby was made from clay. I'm sure there's some deeper theological meaning which can be applied in this situation, but not at this time. For the moment I was concerned with the practical application of glue to that substance, whatever it is. The baby was beginning to break into pieces. That just won't do.
The other night I carefully cleaned the old straw from the baby and gently washed him with dish soap and water. He had become sticky somehow, and was gathering grot. After drying I applied a dab of Aleene's Quick Grab Tacky Glue to one break, stuck the legs in place and waited overnight. Success! The joint was good. So I glued the remaining bits, gathered some fresh straw, and placed him back in the manger.
We live in a place where the threat of fire is real, each year. We have bags packed year round in case we need to evacuate in a hurry. After the pets are collected there's a short list of personal effects to grab. This nativity scene is high on that list. It is truly priceless and irreplaceable. Thank you, Granny.