Through the eyes of a child, we are invited to see Christmas anew.  There's nothing else like it, as every parent and grandparent will testify.  When we see through the eyes of a child, we are lifted up.  I dare say that unless we see like little children, we won't be lifted up.  And I'm not talking about gas and helium balloons.
Many of you have probably seen the "Letters to God" moving around in cyberspace.  They're so funny.  Maybe you remember this one:  "Dear God, In Bible times, did they really talk that fancy?  Love, Katie."
Another little kid made a letter request that I often thought worthy myself:  "Dear God, Please put another holiday between Christmas and Easter.  There is nothing good in there right now.  Love, Joey."
And also from the pencil of babes:  "Dear God, Instead of letting people die and having to make new ones, why don't you just keep the ones you got now?  Love, Emily."
Every day my own daughter calls to relay to me what her kids are saying and doing.  Their antics make me laugh out loud and I tell Jenny she should write a book - not to make millions but to make a keepsake, in order to recall and savor in detail these very good days.
The latest calls about Gunnar, who turns two this December 21^st, are hilarious -- and more earthy than ethereal since the little elf is getting potty trained.  Pardon me for telling you in print that Gunny thinks going poop in the potty is bigger than seeing Santa at the Mall.
But the season of swaddling clothes and choirs of angels is upon us, so let me tell you also about a conversation more sublime.  The following narrative, which took place between little Addie, who is getting too close to four, and her mother Jenny, forever young, arrived just in time for Christmas.  Maybe you, too, can hear carols playing in the background.

"Where does God live?" asked Addie.
Replied Jenny, "God lives up in Heaven and all over.  He even peeks into your room to make sure you're okay.  And He lives in your heart, too."

Away in a manager,
no crib for a bed,
The little Lord Jesus
laid down his sweet head.

"Does God sleep?" asked Addie.
Replied Jenny, "I don't know.  But I do know that He rests."

The stars in the bright sky
looked down where He lay,
The little Lord Jesus
asleep on the hay.

"Maybe He just sleeps in the manger," said Addie.
"Baby Jesus did," confirmed Jenny.

The cattle are lowing;
the Baby awakes,
But little Lord Jesus,
no crying He makes.

"Now did He grow up?" asked Addie.
Replied Jenny, "He grew up to be 33, the same age as Dad, and then He died."

I love you, Lord Jesus,
look down from the sky,
And stay by my cradle
till morning is nigh.

"I wish He didn't have to die,' said Addie.
"Me, too," replied Jenny.  "But He did a great thing when He died.  He said we could all go to Heaven with Him when we died."

Be near me, Lord Jesus,
I ask you to stay
close by me forever,
and love me, I pray.

"Like Grandma Vera is visiting Him," stated little Addie, matter of factly.  "Then she goes back to her own cloud."

Bless all the dear children
in Your tender care,
And fit us for Heaven
to live with You there.

Oh, to see through the eyes of a child instead of our adult eyes that sometimes get clouded and squinty.  But as long as they're open, we've got trees to decorate and cards to write, presents to buy and potties to clean.  Yes, we live in a fine mix of heavenly and earthy things and it's all rather divine.  I'm grateful for every day of it.  Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good Night.