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Be born in us today

I think much about the mother of Jesus these days. I thank my daughter Amanda for that.She handed me a tiny gift one Sunday afternoon last summer, a velvet-sheathed, cubic, snap-lidded box. The kind rings come in.
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I think much about the mother of Jesus these days. I thank my daughter Amanda for that.She handed me a tiny gift one Sunday afternoon last summer, a velvet-sheathed, cubic, snap-lidded box. The kind rings come in. She said nothing, just gave it over, her face enigmatic.

The three grandbeans, as I call our grandchildren, watched. "Nana, it's a present for YOU!" exclaimed four-year-old Butterfly Bean, leaping as though spring-loaded.

"You'll REALLY like it!" Benjamin Bean, five, added. The two-year old, eyes shining, bounced on her toes.

"A present? For me? But it's not my birthday! What could it be?"

"IT'SA..." one of the children shouted.

"SHHH!" cautioned both parents at the same time.

I flipped up the lid. Nothing inside. Nothing but velvet and air.

Five sets of mischievous eyes met mine, but no mouths opened.

I went back to inspecting the box.Tucked into the corner, I noticed something that resembled a small pearl. Suddenly I knew. A bean. It was a bean. "Hey, does this mean...?"

Amanda grinned and nodded. "Didn't you suspect? I was sure you knew."

"No! Wow! Another grandbean! Really?" Laughing, I plucked up the youngest. "Hey, Chick Pea, you're going to be a big sister!"

Her smile disappeared. "Nooo," she wailed. "Ah'm still WIDDO!"

Grandbean number four, I learned, will arrive shortly after Christmas. Fresh life - an incomparable gift.

I watch Amanda's curiously blended state of exhaustion and exhilaration. I remember both well - and I only had two babies. I also recall the discomfort. Bending over is impossible for our daughter these days - the floor seems further when to reach it you have to bend over a barrel every time. Like most expectant women, she feels enormous.

I think more often about that young girl God chose as Jesus' mother, when a baby's busting to join our family. And I wonder how Mary announced the news to her own mother. To Joseph. To the neighbours. Some surely responded... "An angel. Now really, Mary. What do you take me for? Tell me the truth." But maybe others said, "I don't know how or why, but I believe."

I think about Mary's acceptance of God's assignment; of her boldness and uncompromising trust. And I wonder what she dreamed about in the night, cloistered for a brief respite from the sniping rumours that must have followed her. It can't have been easy, bearing God.

Centuries later, Christ's followers carry him within too. I'm reminded of that each time I sing this line from one of my favourite Christmas carols, "Cast out our sin and enter in, be born in us today."As his presence altered Mary's shape and Mary's world, I pray he changes me and my world - one human "bean" at a time.

Yes, I think much about the mother of Jesus these days. But I worship her son..."O come to us, abide with us, our Lord Emmanuel."

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