Thursday, December 21, 2006

My Best Christmas Gift Ever

My oldest "baby" is seventeen now, but for all his wisdom I’m sure he doesn’t believe he was the best Christmas present I ever received. The eighties were drawing to a close, and I was told to expect my baby around November 30, 1989. This would be a very special Thanksgiving for us, but November passed into December, and still there was no baby. My belly grew rounder and rounder, but my little firstborn seemed content to stay huddled inside. After all, it was unusually cold that year for a Florida winter! Eleven days into December, I received a call from my doctor. "This baby may be trying to greet Jesus on his birthday," he said, "but I think we’d better give him a little nudge." So, the next morning, I waddled into the hospital and delivered my beautiful almost-Christmas baby. An enormous 9 pounds, 13-1/2 ounces, he was perfect in every way . . . just as I always imagined the little baby Jesus had been. Dylan’s arrival just two weeks before Christmas put a little kink in my preparations for that year, but nobody seemed to mind. He was my parents’ very first grandchild, so he was their best Christmas present, too! And every year when December arrives, our family celebrates the best gift that God ever gave our family at Christmastime -- our very own Christmas baby to love.

". . . and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son." -- Luke 2:7


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