|Morgan Ann, all grown up, sitting upon my lap|
“For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.”
“Nana, please, we have to bake cookies, and you need a Christmas tree to decorate.”
My eldest grandchild, ten-year-old Morgan Ann, would not quit on the topic of Christmas.
I did not want to bake. And I sure didn’t want a tree, when Joshua had always been involved with choosing a big one. When Morgan pleaded more than once, my husband and I relented.
Morgan and her two sisters, Lynsey and Carley, came over early one morning to begin the handmade ornaments. At least I got my way that there would be no ornaments on the tree except for what the girls made. I guessed I could handle that much. Morgan also insisted we make Joshua’s favorite cookies, a welcoming and fitting inspiration.
Okay, maybe I could do this.
The girls made a big mess with glue, glitter, and construction paper. We strung cranberries and popcorn on strings and decorated cutout egg cartons into bells. The girls hung the ornaments on a three-foot-tall tree, also my idea. No big tree.
We made fudge—my idea. The rest were Joshua’s favorites: thumbprint cookies, hand-decorated snowmen and Santa Claus, and angel sugar cookies. Pink, blue, and green frosting was smeared on the table and on my granddaughters’ faces. We laughed. They howled.
I took oodles of pictures.
When the girls left that evening, I sighed with a smile. Morgan Ann had had a wonderful idea.
Father, thank You for prompting me to please my granddaughters. We made wonderful memories, and they blessed me. Please bless them as they grow into young women who may learn to follow after You. In Jesus’s holy name. Amen.