Monday, January 31, 2011


He was red, wrinkled, and beautiful beyond belief as he lay in a red Christmas stocking. He had been born on December 22 or 23 (this old auntie mind had forgotten which day for certain). He came home to us as a precious Christmas present.

When my turn to hold him came I simply sat silent and stared at him. There was such peace in this tiny bundle. He seemed content to lie quietly in my arms and stare right back at me. From that very moment I knew that he would be a joyous part of my life.

My darling Joseph as a tiny boy had a childish speech...he called himself Doseph...and we called him that as well. As an adult he still endures being called that by family members from time to time, and he just grins that beautiful, beloved grin that takes me all the way back to a tiny wrinkled babe in a Christmas stocking.

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