a rogers christmas tradition

I love reading Christmas books to my family. We have a basket full of Christmas books and each December night we choose a book or two to read together before bed. We all curl up on either the couch or my bed and enjoy Christmas tales--"The Nutcracker", "How the Grinch Stole Christmas", "The Crippled Lamb". My absolute favorite is "The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey" by Susan Wojciechowski.
Despite the fact that I've read this story many, many times each year as I read I choke up, I tear up, and I cry.
As I put myself in Jonathan Toomey's shoes I wonder how I would act if I lost my husband and baby, just three days apart. I picture myself curling up on my bed, crying myself into oblivion, letting my mom take care of me for the rest of my life.

Each year as I cry and stumble over the tear-blurred words my girls stare at me with caring yet confused eyes. I suppose they are wondering what I'm thinking, wondering what is causing this reaction in their mom who rarely cries.

I cherish moments like this. I try to take mental photographs of us all together, enjoying our Christmas stories. Ashton on my lap. Kenne's hand tucked into mine, her legs draped across Dust's. Tana and Tater at the foot of the bed. These are the moments my heart sings, "This is the season beloved of the year. Sing a rhyme; Christmastime soon will be here. Tell the true story of Jesus' birth, when as a baby, he came to the earth."