Silent Night

I wanted so dearly to make this Christmas truly special.  We have been so, so blessed.

After a lovingly-rehearsed concert that the girls performed for daddy on Christmas Eve, it was time for my gift to them.

This year, I made each daughter her own little baby.  Her own soft, special wee one to hold and to draw comfort from.

Each little baby is made from the clothes that I brought each of my babies home in.

I gave them each their own baby, and then I read to them of the true gift of Christmas, the gift they had each been given by a loving Father.

That gift was a baby, too.

“At this focal point of all human history, a point illuminated by a new star in the heavens revealed for just such a purpose, probably no other mortal watched—none but a poor young carpenter, a beautiful virgin mother, and silent stabled animals who had not the power to utter the sacredness they had seen.

Shepherds would soon arrive and later, wise men from the East.  Later yet the memory of that night would bring Santa Claus and Frosty and Rudolph—and all would be welcome.

But first and forever there was just a little family, without toys or trees or tinsel. With a baby—that’s how Christmas began.

It is for this baby that we shout in chorus: “Hark! the herald angels sing Glory to the newborn king! … Mild he lays his glory by, Born that man no more may die: Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth.”

Christmas, then, is for children—of all ages. I suppose that is why my favorite Christmas carol is a child’s song. I sing it with more emotion than any other:

Away in a manger, no crib for his bed,
The little Lord Jesus laid down his wee head. …
I love thee, Lord Jesus, look down from the sky
And stay by my side until morning is nigh. …
Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask thee to stay
Close by me forever and love me, I pray.
Bless all the dear children in thy tender care,
And take us to heaven to live with thee there.”

Merry Christmas, my little Loves.  May you always remember what you’ve been given.

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