A Christmas Biography

 My parents traveled a lot. One fall, when mom carried me, they determined a trip to their hometown took precedent. In the old days, the journey took several hours. Nowadays I suppose they would make it in thirty minutes, what with the road system improvements and all.

By the time they decided to go, the streets were full of travelers. It slowed them down. Mom’s pregnancy didn’t seem to be an issue. I tossed and turned, but nothing strange for an unborn. When they reached the small farming community, they found an entire village homecoming. Everyone’s cousins showed up.

Dad’s family owned a wonderful house, and he hadn’t mentioned he and mom were coming. It created a bit of a tizzy. It came down to a small area out back in a horse paddock office. It was comfortable under the circumstances. Now and then, a horse snickered. Even the chickens seemed happy to have someone stay the night.

Dad, always the provider, pulled the food out of his go-bag, and they settled in for a quiet evening.

Mom’s water broke in the early morning hours, and not too long after, I slid into a new world. My strong voice complemented my well-proportioned body, small as it was. Dad found some sheets in a closet to help clean up the afterbirth and amniotic fluid. I didn’t know those words back then. Mom suckled me, and I enjoyed my first meal. It wasn’t long before I fell asleep. They laid me in an opened bureau drawer.

News spread quickly. It wasn’t long before all the neighboring farmers and ranchers stopped by to pay their regards. They’d seen the light of the barn glowing. It led them to me. A couple of days later, more visitors from a university showed up. They even brought me birthday presents. Mom and dad were astounded at their generosity.

So many people heard about my arrival that I have newfound brothers and sisters who help me celebrate my birthday, even today. Perhaps you are one. Love, Jesus.

Merry Christmas