Tiny miracles fill holidays
Published: January 4, 2007
You hear a lot about big miracles during the Christmas season — an immaculate conception, a heavenly babe, angels in sheep pastures and a guiding star. Sometimes the stories of big miracles are so spectacular that we forget about all the little miracles that still happen in our lives every day.
Experiencing another Christmas with my sextuplets and their big brother proved to me that there are lots of small daily miracles waiting to be discovered if you just take a minute to see and celebrate them.
I was in typical high gear until Dec. 23: making cookies, wrapping presents, doing last-minute shopping and trying to preserve my sanity while keeping up with the extra work and the usual daily chores created by a family of nine. When the morning of Christmas Eve arrived along with the start of my second migraine in 24 hours, I was as grouchy as the proverbial bear and badly in need of an attitude adjustment.
I said a little prayer for strength, made a pact with my sourpuss husband for both of us to try not to be so grumpy, and kicked off the day by changing our countdown sign to “1 day ’til Christmas.” We got the kids up and moving and ready for breakfast, and as we all sat down to eat together, I noticed miracle No. 1: No one was sick!
Last Christmas was a blur of stomach ailments and disgusting messes to clean up, so we figured we had nowhere to go but up this year. We chalked it up to divine intervention that this holiday’s bodily messes were confined to runny noses. I was delighted to merely wipe a few noses as I remembered how rotten we’d all felt a year earlier.
As we got the kids dressed for church in their matching red Christmas outfits, I had to remind myself what a miracle it was that they were all strong and healthy enough to wrestle with me as I shoved arms into sleeves and folded cuffs on festive socks. Three years ago, it was only Connor I was dressing while heavily pregnant with the sextuplets and praying hard for a very large miracle.
After marching proudly into church in their cute new clothes, all seven kids loved watching the choir perform Little Drummer Boy, complete with an actual drummer. Connor stood up on the pew to see better and the rest looked on in open-mouthed amazement. After church, we made lunchtime a bit easier with takeout from McDonald’s, where we got the sextuplets their first Happy Meals. Until then, they’d always had to share large boxes of nuggets and fries that we doled out in handfuls. They were delighted to discover their own miracle: Fries come with TOYS? How cool is that!
We returned to a very warm church service in the evening, where Connor was excited to sing with the kids’ choir. He’d practiced his favorite part of the song (“Glo-ho-ho-ho-horia!”) over and over again, and sang that like a champ. It was the rest of the song that eluded him, so he spent the time wiping his nose on his arm and turning around to watch the bigger kids singing behind him. Still, for those few miraculous moments, his face was cherubic as he sang with his mouth formed into an “O,” and it was easy to forget that he’d been bouncing off the walls and getting on my nerves all afternoon.
The final song, Silent Night, was sung by candlelight, which provided another miracle by turning six pink-cheeked, sweaty, tired toddlers into a half-dozen angels with light reflected in their eyes. As I watched them solemnly stare at the candles and listen to the quiet singing, I had my annual “Aha!” moment that always reminds me why I do all those crazy things to try to give my kids the best Christmas possible.
Gifts galore
Christmas morning arrived and seven kids tumbled down the stairs and eagerly dove into the stockings that Santa had left on their chairs at the kitchen table. In our house, Santa brings breakfast in the stockings, which is mostly junky stuff I won’t let them eat the rest of the year, so they’re happy to sit down and have their special treats before tearing into presents. (Getting seven kids trained to willingly eat breakfast before opening gifts is a rather large miracle in itself!)
During the gift-opening frenzy, guardian angels had to be watching over five crazed adults who managed to avoid hand injuries while frantically snipping, clipping and gouging at toy packages with scissors, wire cutters and pocket knives. I swear that toy manufacturers must give bonuses to their employees based on the number of wire ties they can attach to a single toy. Does one Dora the Explorer doll really need 10 wire ties for the body and another dozen to attach all the accessories to the package? At the end of the day, we had produced an awe-inspiring 12 bags of trash, one of which could easily have been filled with just wire ties.
The afternoon was relatively quiet, with kids playing contentedly with new toys. A bonus miracle was a reduction in fighting as the kids actually — gasp! — SHARED their new toys and traded with each other without the usual amount of screaming and shoving.
And so the year ended on a good note, with all of us anticipating celebrating many more miracles and milestones as Connor turns 5 in a few weeks and the sextuplets look forward to their third birthday in February. I am waiting for a little miracle of my own: QUIET TIME, when the six-pack starts going to preschool four mornings a week in March.
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