Bless her heart...

Lana's has always had great Christmas mornings opening up piles and piles of gifts. This year, she asked, "Mom, I need to make a Christmas List, so I can have lots and lots or presents like before". My jaw dropped as I realize I had failed to teach her the simple principles of Christmas and what it really meant to me. This was the time of the year where I am the most emotional and she doesn't have a clue as to why. This was my chance to herald the Savior's mission as a parent to my child.

As a member of the Gospel, I know that our Redeeming Savior is the reason for this season. I'm immensely comforted to know that on that day, our dear Savior was born in a simple cradle, in a stable and not a ch√Ęteau nor tower. At the time, he was only visited by a humble few and not acclaimed by many. The story of his birth is an amazing one and one that is close to my heart. I shared this story with Alana and bore witness of his birth, his death and his purpose. The shared the importance of this season. I couldn't believe how much I cried in front of her. I felt this experience a special one shared between a daughter and a mother.

After explaining to Lana that this was not her birthday but the Savior's birthday, I was so touched by how quickly she felt the message. She gave me a look of appreciation for sharing the story of our Savior's birth. She said she didn't want any presents. We told her, she could have at least one. She was grateful. She asked what Jesus would want for his birthday and we told her that he would want us to give. To give to others who were less fortunate than us. She happily agreed.

A few days after the experience, my brother's had asked her what she wanted for Chrismas and were touched when she would answer, "I just want us all to be a happy family for Christmas". They were amazed by her answer. (LoL). My mother asked Lana to write a letter to Santa with a list of things she would like to have on Christmas (This was intended for them to have an idea of what she wants). She innocently replied, "Come on grandma, Santa's not real". My mother was shocked. She told me that every child should have the opportunity to believe and enjoy the thought of a fat white man in a red suite living in the North Pole with elves making toys for tots. I honestly do not know where she got that idea that Santa wasn't real. So, Sho and I came up with a crazy story about Santa living in the North Pole. We told her Santa could probably get one more gift for her and bring it over on Christmas Eve while she's in bed, sleeping. Here's what she came up with on her own.

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