I had such a special experience with my little Quinny yesterday. Tt meant so much to me that I spoke about it in church today, and I want to remember it forever.
Like any mom in December, I've been teaching Quinn about Christmas. She is starting to understand Santa Claus and is getting more excited about her wish list ... a dot night gown and a pretty, pretty princess game. We also, of course, talk about the baby Jesus since we are pretty hard core practicing Christians. I want Quinn to enjoy all the aspects, stories and traditions of Christmas. I want it to feel magical to her the way it has always felt for me. I want it to be something to look forward to all year, something to get excited about, something that changes her and teaches her.
But Quinn is different. She does not jump on many bandwagons. She'll listen a little, but then she likes to figure things out herself before or IF she gets excited about it. Again, she does not jump on many bandwagons. (Remember the costume fiasco of Halloween.)
But she is getting older and understanding more and more.
Well, yesterday Santa Claus was at our local Wal-mart. (Adding a new meaning to my sister's insistence that Wal-mart is a magical place.) He was just sitting there, no lines, no fees. I asked Quinn if she wanted to sit on his lap. She said, "Sure, and I want candy." She got on his lap, and I said, "Tell Santa what you want him to bring for you when he comes to our house on Christmas." "I want Candy," she said, referring to the candy she had seen him pull from his sack and give to another little girl. Once he obliged her sweet tooth, she gave him her list, and then she said, cool and collected, "Bye, Santa Claus." She got off his lap, walked away and asked me to open her candy. She didn't say another word about it.
Later that night I decided I really wanted to take the girls to a live nativity that is put on at the barn down the road. It was so cold. Aunt Sue and Rachel said they were not sure if they were up for such a cold outing. I said, "suit yourself, but we are going." It took awhile to convince Quinn of the intensity of the cold outside, but I finally got her to put on pants, boots, two shits, a sweater, a coat and gloves. I bundled McKenna up too and convinced Sue and Rachel to join the party. We were so cold on the walk to the barn that we just about turned around. Quinn said, "I want to go home now. It is so cold." Quinn never complains, so it must have been bad. But I was determined.
The nativity was amazing. Most nativities have the stages of the baby Jesus story, and you walk through and listen to a narrator describing the different scenes before you. At this nativity, though, you walk through as if you were traveling during the time of Cesear Augustus just like Mary and Joseph. There are even solders that ride around to check for newborn baby boys and to collect taxes. We had to convince one of them that McKenna was, in fact, a girl and therefore not the baby Jesus he was looking for.
After a walk thought a Christmas-lit field, we entered a barn that was set up like an old marketplace filled with the craftsmen and animals of the day,wooded workers, shepherds, camels and the works. Quinn soaked in each area of the marketplace like she did with the Santa Claus visit -- she pet the sheep or whatever and moved on to the next thing.
But then we walked across another the field to a smaller barn. A small women's choir was singing songs about the savior below a bright star on top of the barn. We walked in and found a large crowd of people crowded around a small horse stall. Inside the stall sat a beautiful Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus. I helped Quinn get to the front of the pack and then waited for her to come find me in the back of the crowd. I waited and waited. No Quinn. I kept waiting. I checked on her a few times, and there she stood eyes fixed on the baby Jesus. I made sure she knew where I was because I thought maybe she was lost or confused. But no, she was not either. She finally said, "I'm not done, mom." We waited for a while, and Quinn had no desire to leave.
She loved the baby Jesus.
After I pulled her away, we had some hot chocolate and walked home. She talked about the baby Jesus most of the way. She wanted to go back.
She didn't mention the cold again.
I know that Christmas is about Jesus, and that is very important. But it is more important to me than anything in the world that I have a little girl how can feel God's love, a little girl who can feel the spirit, a little girl who loves Jesus, and a little girl who will understand what that all means someday. I try very hard to teach her about God, but it is comforting to know that she will figure it all out in her own way. She'll feel it whether I teach it the right way or not. My little girl has her priorities in check, and that makes me incredibly proud of her.
Merry Christmas, Quinn. I love you so much.
**A special thanks to the Watkins family and all the wonderful neighbors who put this event together every year.
