It’s been 3 months since we met you, Clara Bear. 
3 tired, happy, spit-up covered months.
The holidays are here, and my dreams (yes, dreams) are coming true. 
I will hold you on my lap at our Thanksgiving dinner.
When asked what I am thankful for this year, I will cry and say your name, a name that Daddy and I couldn’t have even imagined one year ago. 
We will share you with relatives who ride trains, planes and automobiles just to meet you. 
I will put you in warm pajamas and read you a book in front of our Christmas tree. 
We will hang your stocking above the fireplace, and probably kiss at the happy shock of seeing it there. 
I will understand, finally, with awesome wonder, what Mary went through in that stable so long ago. 

The lights will shine brighter. The fires will feel warmer. I will eat pie and sing carols and burn candles and I will be THANKFUL, sweet daughter, for the new life and light and wondrous delight you and those lovely blue eyes bring into our humble little house and hearts. 

Happy 3 months, Clara Noelle Horney. 
You are the sun and the snow, so bright and surprising. 


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