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Halfway through December, we were doing the regular
evening things when there was a knock at the door. We
opened it to find a small package with a beautiful
ceramic lamb inside. We looked at the calendar and
realized that the 12 days of Christmas were
beginning!!
We waited excitedly for the next
night's surprise and only then, with the gift of a
matching shepherd, did we realized that the lamb was
part of a nativity set.
Each night we grew more excited
to see what piece we would receive. Each was
exquisitely beautiful. The kids kept trying to catch
the givers as we slowly built the scene at the manager
and began to focus on Christ's birth.
On Christmas Eve, all the pieces
were in place, but the baby Jesus. My 12 year-old
son really wanted to catch our benefactors and began
to devise all kinds of ways to trap them. He ate his
dinner in the mini-van watching and waiting, but no
one came.
Finally we called him in to go
through our family's Christmas Eve traditions. But
before the kids went to bed we checked the front step
- no Baby Jesus! We began to worry that my son had
scared them off. My husband suggested that maybe they
dropped the Jesus and there wouldn't be anything
coming. Somehow, something was missing that Christmas
Eve.
There was a feeling that things
weren't complete. The kids went to bed and I put out
Christmas cookies, but before I went to bed I again
checked to see if the Jesus had come - no, the
doorstep was empty.
In our family the kids can open
their stockings when they want to, but they have to
wait to open any presents until Dad wakes up. So one
by one they woke up very early and I also woke up to
watch them. Even before they opened their stockings,
each child checked to see if perhaps during the night
the baby Jesus had come. Missing that piece of the
set seemed to have an odd effect. At least it changed
my focus. I knew there were presents under the tree
for me and I was excited to watch the children open
their gifts, but first on my mind was the feeling of
waiting for the ceramic Christ Child.
We had opened just about all of
the presents when one of the children found one more
for me buried deep beneath the limbs of the tree. He
handed me a small package from my former visiting
teaching companion. This sister was somewhat less
active in the church. I had learned over time they
didn't have much for Christmas, so that their focus
was the children. It sounded like she didn't get many
gifts to open, so I had always given her a small
package - new dish towels, the next year's lesson
manual-not much, but something for her to open. I was
touched when at Church on the day before Christmas,
she had given me this small package, saying it was
just a token of her love and appreciation.
As I took off the bow, I
remembered my friendship with her and was filled with
gratitude for knowing her and for her kindness and
sacrifice in this year giving me a gift. But as the
paper fell away, I began to tremble and cry. There in
the small brown box was the baby Jesus. He had come!
I realized on that Christmas Day
that Christ will come into our lives in ways that we
don't expect. The spirit of Christ comes into our
hearts as we serve one another. We had waited and
watched for him to come, expecting the dramatic "knock
at the door and scurrying of feet" but he came in a
small, simple package that represented service,
friendship, gratitude, and love.
This experience taught me that
the beginning of the true spirit of Christmas comes as
we open our hearts and actively focus on the Savior.
But we will most likely find him in the small and
simple acts of love, friendship and service that we
give to each other. This Christmas I want to feel
again the joy of knowing that Christ is
in our home. I want to focus on
loving and serving. More than that I want to open my
heart to him all year that I may see him again.
Don't forget the reason for the
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