Each night we grew more excited to see what piece we would receive.
Each was exquisitely beautiful. The kids kept trying to catch the givers
as we slowly built the scene at the manager and began to focus on Christ's birth.

On Christmas Eve, all the pieces were in place, but the baby Jesus.
My 12 year-old son really wanted to catch our benefactors and began to devise
all kinds of ways to trap them. He ate his dinner in the mini-van watching
and waiting, but no one came.

Finally we called him in to go through our family's Christmas Eve traditions.
But before the kids went to bed we checked the front step-No Baby Jesus!
We began to worry that my son had scared them off. My husband suggested that
maybe they dropped the Jesus and there wouldn't be anything coming.
Somehow something was missing that Christmas Eve. There was a feeling
that things weren't complete. The kids went to bed and I put out Christmas,
but before I went to bed I again checked to see if the Jesus had come-no,
the doorstep was empty.

In our family the kids can open their stockings when they want to, but
they have to wait to open any presents until Dad wakes up. So one by one
they woke up very early and I also woke up to watch them. Even before
they opened their stockings, each child checked to see if perhaps during
the night the baby Jesus had come. Missing that piece of the set seemed
to have an odd effect. At least it changed my focus. I knew there were
presents under the tree for me and I was excited to watch the children
open their gifts, but first on my mind was the feeling of waiting for the
ceramic Christ Child.

We had opened just about all of the presents when one of the children
found one more for me buried deep beneath the limbs of the tree. He
handed me a small package from my former visiting teaching companion.
This sister was somewhat less-active in the church. I had been her
visiting teacher for a couple of years and then, when she was asked to be
a visiting teacher, she requested to go with me. I had learned over time
they didn't have much for Christmas, so that their focus was the children.
It sounded like she didn't get many gifts to open, so I had always given her
a small package-new dish towels, the next year's Relief Society lesson manual
-not much, but something for her to open.
I was touched when at Church on the day before Christmas,
she had given me this small package, saying it was just a token
of her love and appreciation.

As I took off the bow, I remembered my friendship with her and was filled
with gratitude for knowing her and for her kindness and sacrifice in this
year giving me a gift. But as the paper fell away, I began to tremble and
cry. There in the small brown box was the baby Jesus. He had come!
I realized on that Christmas Day that Christ will come into our lives in
ways that we don't expect. The spirit of Christ comes into our hearts as
we serve one another. We had waited and watched for him to come,
expecting the dramatic "knock at the door and
scurrying of feet" but he came in a small,
simple package that represented service, friendship, gratitude, and love.

This experience taught me that the beginning of the true spirit of
Christmas comes as we open our hearts and actively focus on the Savior.
But we will most likely find him in the small and simple acts of love,
friendship and service that we give to each other. This Christmas I want
to feel again the joy of knowing that Christ is in our home. I want to
focus on loving and serving. More than that I want to open my heart to
him all year that I may see him again.

from a friend via email