Mary
has always been my hero. My grandma is also named Mary, and I think it's the greatest name ever. For goodness sakes, Mary was the mother of
Jesus Christ. Talk about God trusting you. When she was only 14, she
was pregnant. So by 15 she was a mother.
Little Beaver was really sick this week, and he was in the hospital. Sometimes I wonder how Mary did it. She was only 14 years old- how did she possibly know everything about being a parent to Jesus Christ?
Well- I don't know anything about being a parent either- but I know that it's sure easy for me to love Little Beaver. He's just a little boy, and he just needs someone to play with him, color with him, hold in and rock him while he is sick in the hospital. I couldn't wait to trek the 30 minute uphill walk to the hospital so I could see little Beaver's eyes peering out from between those white metal crib bars, and so I could take him out of that crib and hold him.
Maybe Mary was like that. Maybe she just really really loved her little Jesus, and so God knew she would do a good job, and taking care of him was natural.
My dad once told me he was afraid for me to be born. He didn't know how to be a father and he was worried he wouldn't be good enough. His father, my Grandpa Bob, told him, "Just love them." Maybe it's not so much about knowing as it is about loving.
" I know that he loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things." -1 Nephi 11:17
This is me at 15. Aka- NOT ready to be a mother:
If I were Mary, and I'm 18
years old, Christ, my son, would be three years old. That's the same
age as my little beaver kid in my room- the one with fetal alcohol
syndrome.
Little Beaver was really sick this week, and he was in the hospital. Sometimes I wonder how Mary did it. She was only 14 years old- how did she possibly know everything about being a parent to Jesus Christ?
Well- I don't know anything about being a parent either- but I know that it's sure easy for me to love Little Beaver. He's just a little boy, and he just needs someone to play with him, color with him, hold in and rock him while he is sick in the hospital. I couldn't wait to trek the 30 minute uphill walk to the hospital so I could see little Beaver's eyes peering out from between those white metal crib bars, and so I could take him out of that crib and hold him.
Maybe Mary was like that. Maybe she just really really loved her little Jesus, and so God knew she would do a good job, and taking care of him was natural.
My dad once told me he was afraid for me to be born. He didn't know how to be a father and he was worried he wouldn't be good enough. His father, my Grandpa Bob, told him, "Just love them." Maybe it's not so much about knowing as it is about loving.
" I know that he loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things." -1 Nephi 11:17
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