Merry Christmas, Melissa!

Christmas to me means God loves me enough to come to my house, to get  me ready for His home in Heaven whenever it's my turn to die, because - - -  now get this, because HE LOVES ME!

 Doesn't that blow your mind? So do you really understand? He loves YOU!  And me!  Both of us. And even more important He knows us inside out and still He came.  Think about it.

   And while you are thinking about it, let me tell you about Melissa's Christmases.  Melissa was born in 1963, our sixth child, with Down's Syndrome.  But Melissa is a happy 46-year old child.  (Just ask Mary Parris.) Melissa may not hear you when you call her name, but walk in with a package bedecked in ribbons and bows and she KNOWS!

 It's Christmas!
SO it has long been a friendly family competition of sorts to see who can please Melissa the most at Christmas and send her off into cascades of laughter.
      A few years ago when we all were gathered together, the usual competitions sprang to life when Melissa was opening her presents. David gave her a huge circular carryall with zippers galore and Melissa emoted happily all over the place.Julie and Steve gave her a raspberry sweater which she barely acknowledged and promptly stuffed in David's bag. They they pounced on their mother with a "Thanks Mom, that's the last time we'll listen to your suggestions."
    Then Brian and Jolie presented her with a black bag that looked like a deluxe computer bag.  Melissa went into overdrive.  She held it up and showed everyone with volumes of never-to-be translated words.  Then she took David's bag and crammed it into Brian's bag.  At this point she was beyond reach.
 But Diane and Ron's present had yet to be opened.  It was a red zippered carryall which registered high on the squeal scale and was a hilarious addition to her haul for the day.
      The rest of our time there, Melissa strutted around the house with the black bag on one shoulder, the red bag in her hand, her raspberry sweater on and a Christmas muffler aound her throat.

   She can't remember what I gave her and neither can I.  Such is the stuff of Christmas with Melissa.

But this Christmas, as we strut atound with our latest acquisition, are we missing the best Christmas present of all? The gift of baby Jesus, God's Son.  Think about it!