A Newer Christmas Story

I found a Little Golden Book in Walmart the other day, and, to my great surprise, it made me tear up as I read it. (I am getting too sentimental in my old age, I guess. And too many of my blog posts involve Walmart.) So I bought it for an early birthday present to myself. It's called "The Animal's Christmas Eve." It was originally published in 1977, and the illustrations in this version are from 2007. I absolutely love this little book. I thought I'd share the poem, written by Gale Wiersum:

In the barn on Christmas Eve,
After all the people leave,
The animals, in voices low,
Remember Christmas long ago.

One small hen, upon her nest,
Softly clucks to all the rest:
"Little chicks, come, gather near.
A wonderous story you will hear."

Two white doves, on rafters high,
Coo a quiet lullaby:
"Long ago in manger hay,
The little baby Jesus lay.

"Three wise men from far away
Came to visit him one day,
For he was born," the doves recall,
"To be the greatest king of all!"

Four brown horses in their stalls,
Snug within the stable walls,
Tell of his birth: "'Twas long fortold
By chosen men in days of old."

Five gray donkeys speak with pride,
Remembering one who gave a ride:
"Our brother donkey went with them
From Nazareth to Bethlehem."

Six spotted calves now nibble hay
Like that on which the baby lay.
"They put him in a manger bed
So he could rest his sleepy head."

Seven goats, all black and white,
Describe the sky that holy night:
"A star appeared at early morn
To mark the place where he was born."

Eight nestling kittens lick their fur.
They nod their heads and softly pur.
"And he was wrapped in swaddling clothes
To keep him warm from head to toes."

Nine woolly sheep, down from the hill,
On Christmas Eve remember still:
"Shepherds heard the angels sing
Praises to the newborn king."

Ten soft lambs say Jesus' name.
"He is the Lamb of God who came.
He was the greatest gift of love,
Sent from his Father, God, above."

Eleven puppies listen well,
In hopes that they, in turn, can tell
The Christmas story another year
For all the animals to hear.

Twelve chimes ring out from far away--
The lovely bells of Christmas day.
And every beast bows low its head
For one small babe in a manger bed.

My children were not as impressed when I read it to them. But that's OK, because I know that they will like it next year, because then it will be a memory from this year, and so far, all their holiday memories are better than the actual events. So we'll pull out the book, and they'll be anxious to hear it, and I will get to tear up all over again. Then we will all remember, like the animals in the poem, the little baby Jesus, the Only Begotten, who grew up to give us the greatest gift--the Atonement.

As long as I'm posting today...

I might as well dump some pictures on here from the last little while.

Look--we did actually celebrate Halloween! (Just because I never posted about it doesn't mean it didn't happen, right? Right.) Here's the costume my last three girls wore for their second Halloween, modeled this year by Tessa at our tri-ward Trunk-or-Treat: We took a pilgrimage (ha!) to Memphis for Thanksgiving. It's so great to have some family within a day's drive. All the kids did great, except for little Tess, who was finally calmed when I tried reaching around behind me to touch her. It was like magic for her, and pretty much torture for my arm, but we got through it. Here are the kids at the Big Kid Table--

--and the Little Kid Table:

No pictures of the boring adult tables. Ben and I went with Jeff and Kristen and Joe and Melanie (and Tess and Hannah) Black Friday shopping. We didn't go out until later, though, and then had lunch together. It's a nice tradition! Thanks again, Mom, for watching almost all of the other kids! That night we were able to go to my nephew Steven's baptism, and then travelled home on Saturday.

Here's Caytie. She said, "Mom, come take a picture of me!" and then led me to the Christmas Tree, where, to my surprise, she crawled underneath to pose. I should have done a better job, because that's the last picture of her with her long curly hair.

My little musicians were invited to play their Christmas pieces at Macy's this past weekend. Emma has only been taking lessons since August, but had no problem going up and playing her three songs with her teacher.

Scott also did a duet and three other songs. It's really fun to hear the fruits of OUR labor!

Can you guess what this is?

Here's another clue:
I cut Caytie's hair last week! I was much less sentimental about the whole process than I thought I would be. I love that her little face pops instead of her hair being the highlight. She's a little pixie--with much of the mischief that goes along with that. But she's very sweet, too. (She likes the available space between me and her to be at about zero whenever possible--unless her daddy is around! Then he's the lucky one.) I'm glad I get to spend my days with this little lady.

A Better Christmas Story

All this week, Caytie has been telling me that some of her things are now for Tessa. She said her pajamas were, a favorite blanket was, some coins she's collected around the house are now for Tessa, and so on. I finally figured out why. We had the kids draw each others' names to see who they would get a gift for this year. The older kids were able to purchase some little gifts at their school holiday store. Since I haven't taken Caytie out to choose a gift for Tessa, she took matters into her own hands, and picked out some of her own stuff for her. It's just too sweet.

(Speaking of sweet, all of the candy canes we put on our tree have somehow disappeared. I have a couple sticky culprits walking around...)

A Christmas Story

I purchased some scented pine cones to make our home smell festive and Christmas-sy. They have a nice cinnamon/nutmeg scent, and I put them by our Christmas tree.

When the kids came home from school, they could tell there was something different. They gathered around the tree, and Scott called out to me--"Hey Mom--it smells like burnt eggnog in here!"

Fa, la, la, la, la.

La, la.

La.

La.