—JAMES 1:4 From Amanda (Miriam’s daughter) The week before Christmas, snow fell outside, and the windows creaked and groaned from the wind. Inside, the fireplace shed a warm glow across the floor and set to shimmering the shiny wrapping paper on the many gifts stacked beside me. I had just finished wrapping the last one and added a small green bow. As I looked at all the packages, my eye caught a middle-sized one wrapped in blue paper. Mom had wrapped it, and I knew it was mine. Suddenly I could hardly wait for Christmas! I eagerly anticipated the day when my whole family would get together to exchange gifts, sing holiday songs, and enjoy family fellowship. Clasping my hands in front of me, I envisioned my siblings’ smiling faces as they peeled back the last of the paper, revealing their gifts inside. Excitement surged through me at the thought of my own blue box. Then I thought about Christmas being Jesus’s birthday. There I was, surrounded by packages, bags, and boxes full of beautiful and useful items, but none were addressed to Him.
