My friend, Melana, e-mailed this to me recently. I thought you might enjoy. Merry Christmas to all you wonderful TRANSFORMING WOMEN!

I got my first Christmas card today. A week before Thanksgiving. Therefore, I am not thinking too badly about my type A anal retentive personality that had my Christmas cards stuffed and ready to go before Halloween. And it gets even worse than that, I promise.

Why do you ask? I had a tentative Christmas gift list in my brain in July, on paper by the first week in August, and beginning to make it’s prescence known by the end of August. It’s not that I was doing this out of boredom, and there was a reason. Her name is Shelby Danielle.

I decided to get the things I felt obligated to do for others done or in place and ready to go in order to actually enjoy the holidays and give them the reverence they deserve. My mother would love it if Shelby had no room in her mental picture of Christmas for Santa, because it was all taken up by baby Jesus and Bethelehem. But I like to see the look on Shelby’s face while she pours over the Toys R Us cataloug contemplating what she thinks she can be sweet enough to warrant asking Santa for. That must be where the enjoyment comes in.

And then there’s Mary. You know, the mother of Jesus. Thta woman has been haunting me all year. It would make you think that I had been raised Catholic and not just around it most of my life.

While putting the addresses on my cards, I started thinking about the first Christmas. I wondered what Mary worried about and had to deal with? I wondered hard enough to tell Lyn she ought to write about it, and she put it right back in my lap. So, to the internet I went to do some research.

Matthew, Mark and Luke all tell the same story. They focus on different aspects, though. Some more negative than others. This was clearly because of how they each took the information and transformed it into written word. It seems to go from negative to positive as the church appreciation of Mary grew. Luke, I think, laid the growndwork for what the church thinks, and it is the version I like the most.

Luke 1:26-38 goes like this. Mary was a simple Jewish farm girl and from Nazareth. Her days were surrounded by doing what it took to survive rather than the activities of the average teenager of today.

When she was 15, her marriage to Joseph the carpenter was arranged by her parents. She had to wait a year, though. One would think that she’d be primarily concerned about details of the wedding and setting up house with Joseph. But there was a wrinkle in the plan, and it was one that would change history if Mary went along with what God would offer.

God sent the Angel Gabriel to tell Mary how pleased He was with her. As a reward, if you will, Mary would become with child. It would be a boy whose name would be Jesus. He would grow up and take the throne of David and reign over the house of Jacob FOREVER! Not till he died, but FOREVER!

She did not wine, say no thank you, or ask if it could wait. Her one question was how it could happen since she was a virgin. When Gabriel told her, she bowed her head and essentially said Àáes, sir.”

What that says to me is this. Mary, as a teenager, was willing to sacrifice her entire life so that mine, my ancestors before me, and my future daughter’s life would be one of possibilities. We would be offered a choice. Not born to a certainty. She wasn’t even remotely concerned about sending out 60 Christmas cards, getting the right gifts, scheduling grandparents to visit, or not offending various relatives for not going to their holiday parties.

Again, she had a baby and gave me a future. So, this year I think when we have our annual Martin family birthday party for Jesus, we should all take a moment to thank Mary for the opportunity to celebrate Christmas in whatever way we see fit. Because had she not said yes sir, it never would have happened.

Thank you Mary, from the bottom of my heart, for the ability to write tons of Christmas cards, buy and wrap gifts, watch Shelby with Santa, and most of all to celebrate the birthday of your son, Jesus.

Submitted by: Melana Martin