Did she have any idea what just arrived in the mail? What she had hoped for, been asking for, begging for? The Christmas gift she has wanted for several months had, unbeknown to her, already been ordered. It arrived that morning in the mail. It arrived when her hairstyle for the day wasn’t agreeing, and when a protruding, unseen nail snagged her sweater and scraped her arm. Tears. Cries of “Why me?” resounding off the walls.

As her father I pondered, “If you knew what just arrived via USPS, tears would instantly evaporate, lamenting would transform into laughter. You would be the happiest little girl in the world.”

A promised Messiah. Tears. Badly matted hair pressed through by a crown of thorns, burrowing skin and scalp. Sinless arms extended, hands snagged by nails. Cries resound down the hill.

And yet the Father ruminated: “World, if you only knew.” No more tears. Laughter. Happiness. It’s coming. He’s here, now.