Lana and I

This year new life has come to our family again for the Christmas season. Our third great-grandchild was born Nov. 27, 2024, Lana Lynn. As she slept peacefully in my arms on Christmas Eve, amid the chatter and laughter of a family gathering, I gave God thanks for this beautiful miracle of love. Her big brother, Riley age four, came over and snuggled up to me while I was holding Lana. He was not only making sure that Great Grandma didn’t forget him, but he was checking on his sister. In my mind he already knows that his job will be caring for his little sister all of their lives. As he reached out and patted Lana gently on the back and touched her hair, I was reminded of a Christmas Eve a number of years ago at Dunsford church. I wrote up the story of Mitchell and his little sister, Taylor and titled it, “That’s Not Your Baby”. That story is in my book, Can I Hold Him? I offer Mitchell’s story to you my readers as my Christmas gift to all of you.

“I’ve news. I’ve news!” my friend Arlene said, as she slid onto the chair across from me. Her dancing eyes, and wide grin said it all. “Baby Taylor was born at two a.m. this morning. She’s three weeks early and she’s tiny but she’s healthy and she’s fine. I’ve been blessed with a second granddaughter.” Arlene paused to give me time to congratulate her, and to let her eyes search the coffee shop to see if there was anyone else she knew. This proud Grandma wanted to tell the world. Finding no one she continued with me. “Her name is Taylor. She may be in hospital for a week or two, until she gains some weight but hopefully she’ll be home for Christmas.”

After a while our conversation went on to talk of other things. Arlene asked the very familiar question, “Are you ready for Christmas?”

“Well, sort of,” I said. “I’ve written this monologue. I’m going to be Mary and…

“You’d like to borrow Taylor, wouldn’t you. You’d like my Taylor to be Jesus on Christmas Eve.”

I nodded.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful,” Arlene said…Oh…well…Maybe not…I don’t know. The kids don’t go to church and they’re over on the other side of Sturgeon Lake. They may not want to… I could ask though. It would be grand for Taylor to begin life as the baby Jesus.”

“Go ahead and ask them, please.” Our tea and muffin break finished, we got up to leave. “Give me a call as soon as you know,” I said.

“I will,” proud Grandma responded.

A few days later, the office phone rang. Arlene’s satisfied voice came over the wire, “They said, yes. They think it would be neat for Taylor to be the baby Jesus, as long as mom and baby are home from hospital and well enough. Could you handle not knowing until Christmas Eve day?”

“Sure,” I responded. “I’ll borrow Braeley’s doll as a back-up.”

Christmas Eve dawned clear and cold. The sun shone all day. As evening came and the time for the worship service approached, Grandma called again. “We’re coming. We’re all coming. Taylor’s been home from hospital for three days and they want to come. Isn’t it wonderful. I’m so happy.”

I clicked off, my heart full of joy. Not only did I have a real baby for my story, but this family were coming to church together on Christmas Eve.

The family arrived about fifteen minutes early, Mom, Dad, Grandma, four-year-old Mitchell and of course baby Taylor, all dressed up in lace and bows. They marched right up to the front pew because all the rest were full. I welcomed them, shaking everyone’s hand including Mitchell’s. Baby Taylor was the best dressed Jesus, I had ever seen.

The service started with a carol sing. The sanctuary was filled to the brim, with enthusiastic people singing familiar Christmas carols. Once the lights were lowered, flickering candles in the windows, on the communion table, and in every other available spot transformed the sanctuary into a magical palace. Entranced the crowd settled down into their pews, ready to hear the Christmas story once again.

Taylor’s father rose and handed me his precious child. Taylor of course was sound asleep oblivious to her important role. I took her in my arms. She felt so warm and fragile as babies do. I raised my head, looked around at the expectant faces turned toward me, took a deep breath, turned to the beautiful child in my arms, kissed baby Jesus on the forehead and began.

“Just look at my baby. Isn’t he beautiful.”  Once again I turned my eyes to baby Taylor sleeping peacefully in my arms. “So beautiful,” I said, “my baby…”

A small voice broke the silence in the church, “That’s not your baby. That’s my sister!” Mitchell overcome by the magic of the moment, was not about to be deceived. He knew who I was holding. How dare I claim his sister. Mitchell’s distressed little face was wrinkled up with fear. The tears spurted forth. Great, hulking sobs shook his little body. Amidst his sobs, once again he shouted, “That’s my sister.”

My heart filled with compassion. Quickly I walked over to Mitchell, bent down putting little Taylor as close to him as I could and said, “Yes she certainly is your sister. I’ve just borrowed her, Mitchell.  For just a little while I’m pretending that Taylor is the baby Jesus and I am her mother Mary.  It’s a game of let’s pretend.”He looked at me his eyes full of doubt, and sniffed several times. His mother held him close. “Could I please just tell my story and then I promise I’ll give your sister back.” He buried his face in his mother’s chest.

“It will be okay,” his mom reassured me. She patted Mitchell’s back and said, “Grandma told me there are toys behind that door. Let’s go and play a while.” She carried the snuffling Tommy out through the door to the church hall.

Once again I looked over the crowd. “Mitchell loves his new sister. He’ll be protecting her all her life. For just a few moments he has reluctantly consented to let Taylor be our baby Jesus. So let us begin again.

With that I stepped back into the spotlight, held baby Taylor out to the congregation and began, “Just look at my Jesus. Isn’t he beautiful?… The Spirit acted and the magic of Christmas Eve descended as I told Mary’s story.(also found in Can I Hold Him?)

Taylor was and is God’s gift of love to the world just as each one of us is. We are called to care for and love all of God’s precious children.