Christmas Eve

It is dusk, Christmas Eve, in Kaštel Novi.

My daughter and son-in-law have been sent to the hospital and perhaps they will induce her tonight. 

We are waiting. 

My husband is making pie.  I am trying to knit and keep my mind occupied. 

But we are waiting. 

Waiting for a birth. 

Seems appropriate given the time of the year. 

That birth was auspicious.  Perhaps I think every birth is.

Why do our children come to us when they do and as who they are. 

These are deep mysterious questions to which I have no answers. 

I am surrounding her with light and calling on angels. 

That is what Mary and Joseph did oh so many years ago. 

Right?

Right. 

I can't wait to hold my daughter as she holds her first baby. 

Babies are miracles. 

They are all miracles.

Whether or not they are accompanied by shepherds or magi, snow or sun, wealth or poverty. 

They are miracles because they have chosen the here and now to come to this earth and be part of this story. 

I will go to church tonight. 

I will pray tonight and wait for peace to cover me, my child, and all the earth.