One Year Ago

One year ago today you made your appearance, and Christmas will never be the same again. Whenever I contemplate the birth of our Savior and imagine Mary holding the tiny King of the Universe in her arms, I will also remember the moment I first held you, wet and red and slippery from the birthing tub. We had no idea then what sort of baby you were, but perhaps the fact that you chose Christ's Mass to enter our lives revealed some of your personality. On the most joyful and quietly beautiful day of the church calendar, you came home to us.

Linus, we could not be more in love with you and your sweet, joyful, and unassuming approach to life. We don't stop often enough to enjoy you. You are so quietly content most of the time, though thrilled when we stop to play with you or take your picture or enjoy your sweet babble. You seem to be saying, "Excuse me, wonderful people around me, I know that you are busy doing something important, but if you have time, I would love to throw this ball to you. I'm equally happy to keep playing here near you, though. This is nice, isn't it?"

You have really started to become a little person in the past few weeks, and it is a gift to see you discover your own abilities. You are learning to communicate with a combination of sign language and your own adorable gestures and noises. You don't really talk yet, and you don't seem to be in much of a hurry to do that or to walk. And you still don't have teeth. You are delighted to let these developments happen as they will, enjoying each moment and not being too anxious to grow up. You may think it is amazing to see this in a baby, but your brother Calvin was the complete opposite of this, always striving, from birth, to do more and to be more than he was ready to do or to be. You, on the other hand, are content just to take life as it comes.

You were born with eyes of wonder at the world, on a day of great wonder for the whole world. May you never lose that, and may it be a gift to our family, to all of us who often take life too seriously and look at the world through anxious eyes.

Words truly cannot express the immense joy you bring to our lives, our beautiful Christmas baby. We love you!