This has been a really crazy month. Adam was laid off and then was in a flurry trying to complete end-of-semester projects and papers and, of course, finals. We've been so blessed financially by anonymous and no-so-anonymous gifts of money and food. We even received ten dollars from my sweet widowed visiting teachers. How nice is that? It's very humbling to be on the receiving end of such generous service especially when some of the money has come from people that have very little themselves. (How do you argue with an 80 year old grandma and her twin sister?) Needless to say, our lack of funds has forced me to focus more this year on the true meaning of Christmas. I've caught the spirit of Christ as we have been served so graciously and taken care of.
It's neat to watch James' reaction to Christmas this year. He gets so excited whenever he sees Christmas lights or trees or lawn ornaments, etc. The thrill and joy of the season is evident on his little face and in his twinkling eyes whenever he catches a glimpse of holiday lights or snowmen. It makes the season even more enjoyable now that he sings 'I am a Child of God' all day long. I never thought that Christmas would be as fun as it was when I was a kid, but having children really brings the magic and wonder back to Christmas. I love it! It's also really fun to have a baby this time of year. I can hold Ruby and imagine Mary as she held the infant Christ. She must have been a pure and valiant soul to be given the overwhelming responsibility to nurture and care for Heavenly Father's Son, her Messiah and Savior--knowing exactly what His fate would be. She was there on Calvary, enduring every mother's nightmare, unable to leave her Son when He needed her most. She loved Him from infancy--nursed Him, taught Him to walk and talk, dressed His wounds, and taught Him the gospel. She was one of the few that did not forsake Him. She had faith in Him and trusted in His divine mission. I can't begin to imagine all that she witnessed in her life. "And Mary kept all of these things and pondered them in her heart."
James burned his hand last week on my mom's curling iron. He just grabbed hold of the hot end and burned all five fingers and most of his palm. He screamed in agony for nearly an hour and a half while we went to the doctor's office and waited for the Tylenol with coedine to kick in. I'm so thankful for modern-day drugs. I felt so helpless holding him while he writhed in pain. There was nothing I could do to alleviate it. Nothing hurts like a burn. Thankfully, today was his last check-up and the doctor said everything looked good and he wouldn't have any scarring or permanent damage. Poor little guy.
