The little girl climbs up on the back of the seat and leans her head towards me as I munch on a sandwich at the mall.

“Hi,” I said. “Did you just eat some chocolate?”

“Yeah.” She smiles, the rim of chocolate crumbs smiling around her lips, then hops down to the playground again.

A little while later she’s back. This time I decide that her hair, brown with slightly frizzy curls descending from one ponytail, might be the same type of hair my niece Madeleine ends up with. Madeleine’s got the genes for this style, that’s for sure, and, as the token straight-haired child on my side of the Lawton clan, I’m just a little jealous.

“I like your fingernails; they’re pretty.”

This one’s a cutie alright. Striped pants with a cute top. Fingernails all painted in bright colors with flower and heart appliqués.

“I got a man-cure and ped-cure at the mall,” she blurts before hopping down to the playland.

Mom, Dad and I continue to eat our lunches while keeping our eyes on Livia.

The little girl comes back, this time breathing over my shoulder as I sit on the bench.

“Where’s your mommy, honey?” my mom asks.

“I don’t have a mommy. She’s dead.”

Oh. We all pause and wonder, really?

A dark haired young woman walks over and asks if the little girl said something about her mom. We affirm it and learn that this four year old’s mama died a year and a half ago, and that today, December 27, is her birthday. The lovely caretaker is a friend of the family and mentions plans to celebrate the day in remembrance.

How does one not burst into tears in the middle of the mall playground? By gulping very hard, avoiding any deeper thoughts of suffering (not to mention avoiding any more glances at this precious, outgoing four year old), and by focusing intently on washing down one’s sandwich with sips of Diet Coke.

Today my sister-in-law’s boyfriend is celebrating his birthday, as is my uncle. This week our nations mourns the passing of two very different famous men and our church family mourns the death of one of our own. This is life. These joys and sufferings, these celebrations and commemorations, they are what binds us together. They remind me to love hard on my toddler and appreciate the gift of my husband, to hug my parents and tell them thank you, to be grateful for great brothers and sisters-in-law and new babies in the family. They encourage me to recall the birth, death and resurrection of my Savior, to drink deeply of this gracious salvation I do not deserve. This is life.

Pass on the lovin’ today, folks. There’s someone near you who could use kind words, a slice of cake, a loving phone call, a tight hug.

The Nicene Creed

We believe in one God, the Father Almighty,
Maker of heaven and earth,
of all things visible and invisible.

And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God,
begotten of his Father before all worlds,
God of God, Light of Light,
very God of very God,
begotten, not made, being of one substance with the Father;
by whom all things were made;
who for us and for our salvation
came down from heaven,
and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the virgin Mary,
and was made man;
and was crucified also for us under Pontius Pilate;
he suffered and was buried;
and the third day he rose again according to the Scriptures,
and ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father;
and he shall come again, with glory, to judge both the living and the dead;
whose kingdom shall have no end.

And we believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord and giver of life,
who proceeds from the Father and the Son;
who with the Father and the Son together is worshiped and glorified;
who spoke by the prophets;
and we believe in one holy catholic and apostolic church;
we acknowledge one baptism for the remission of sins;
and we look for the resurrection of the dead,
and the life of the world to come. Amen.

When a gift tag becomes something really special…

This is Livia’s 3rd Christmas, but it’s the first time she is able to understand (partially at least) the meanings and traditions related to the day. BabyJesuswasbornonChristmasDay! she says at least ten times a day. And despite knowing that presents are opened on Christmas Day, she got a bit itchy and tore into one yesterday while I was on the phone, preoccupied with a conversation. Overall she’s been very patient waiting both for Baby Jesus to be born and for presents to be opened. Jeremy and I plan on a few tears Christmas Day when Liv can’t actually pat and hold this Baby Jesus she’s been waiting for. I’m hoping our little Advent calendar and a birthday cake will help my sweet two and a half year old understand the holiday.

A gift tag becomes really special when you think about the present, buy it, store it away for weeks or even months, pull it out and wrap it… and give it to your small child. Merry Christmas to Livia, child of mine with fresh eyes. I love you more each day.

I am just now realizing it’s the TWENTIETH of December. Dear goodness me. I am not quite prepared for the upcoming family celebrations on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

I’ve been down and out the last seven days after having surgery. Like a friend said to me today, sometimes there are hidden blessings in not being able to participate in typical everyday life. Livia and I have cozied up in our living room recently and watched tons of PBS. I’m steadily working my way through the Mitford series. Jeremy and I have been kicking back in the evenings with Ewan and Charley. And overall I’ve avoided stress that often accompanies the holidays. Not too bad, right? Now, to complete the final shopping duties and gift-wrapping, and then I’m all set for the family parties.

Only five more days of the December Photo Project. Are y’all prepared to complete the challenge?

I know nothing about my computer. And next-to-nothing about my blog. There is this man in my life who takes care of all things internet for me… and does so without complaint. I have an HTML boo-boo? He fixes it. I need a category added or another subtracted? It’s done. I want a photo realigned? He did it five minutes ago.

My husband, my own personal web developer, takes care of me. The world needs to know that I love him and thank him for it.