This Christmas

... will be my first in the US with my husband.
... will be my first away from my dad.
... will be my first with my first job in the US.
... will be my first without a 13th month pay.
... will be my first with my first Louis Vuitton bag, however pathetic this sounds.
... will be my first with an iPhone and not with a Nokia, again, however pathetic this sounds.
... will be my first wishing [now] more than an ever that a baby is on the way.
... will be my first feasting my eyes on San Francisco Christmas lights.
... will be my first without the Ayala decors.
... will be my first [literally] cold Christmas.
... will be my Christmas of my many firsts.

It's happy. It's sad. It's luxurious. It's expensive. It's a first in a totally and completely different way. There's a yin and a yang ring to it. And then there's the birth of our Savior.

The birth.

A birthday, any birthday, it is usually a cause for celebration. But this one's that of our Savior  -  our Savior who eventually died on the Cross so that from then on and in the centuries to come we'll have a Christmas that's brimming with lessons, like the bittersweet fruitcake in tragedies and like the glistening snow in the purity of joy.