It’s like our Christmas Eve. The stockings are hung (sort of near, not) on the chimney with care. Our child is nestled, all snug in our bed.

Presents are wrapped and under the tree, ready for tomorrow morning, our family Christmas.

Except we forgot to give her any warning that it’s coming. No anticipation, no building to the moment. Nothing.

I’d like to say it’s because we’re trying to downplay the materialism that too often comes with the holiday. That is generally true about our beliefs, but it isn’t specifically true for this moment. We just…forgot to tell her.

But I hope I’m right in thinking, warning or not, finding presents under the tree and in a stocking will be a welcome surprise. And, on a separate note, I do like the reminder that comes with having a small child during this time of the year, the joy and celebration of life and love and family and hope. Sometimes, the best things in life are unasked for and unexpected – and somehow, I know our “Christmas” morning will be just fine. Better than fine, even – I’m sure that, come morning, we’ll make a joyful noise.

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