If you read yesterday's post and the question I left had you up all night in anticipation, I won't keep you in suspense any longer. (If you're just tuning in, check out yesterday's post first.).
Well, my husband did the train set decoration. I did the crackers in the Dutch oven.
How did you do? Did you guess correctly?
Well, my last snippet of life here at Christmastime shows another Christmas decoration. I got this one in Florida at one of those Christmas stores that are open all year round. But it is not quite what it seems.
Yes, it's a tiny book tree decoration, but it's not the Holy Bible. It's only the New Testament. It's really all there, written in the smallest font I have ever seen, which is remarkable since I bought it in 1989, when computers didn't do much of this stuff. With a magnifying glass, you can actually read it.
It's important to me because within it is the true meaning of Christmas, one that has been lost to some. We celebrate the birth of a Child who would grow up to die so we can go to God with cleansed souls. He was born in such a lowly, filthy barn to an unmarried mother, that no one could claim to have been born more basal than He, yet He did extraordinary things for us. That's what we're celebrating. His gift to us. That's why we give gifts, in recognition of that.
Give gifts of love and time and of course, fun, this Christmas. Like the birth of any baby, it truly is a joyous time.