The Box Part 1

It's there every year, inconspicuously nestled into the branches of our Christmas tree. It began the year we found out we were pregnant for the first time. We were thrilled, scared, and dreamy like most first-time parents-to-be. We discovered the news at the beginning of December, and that year for Christmas we were given some things for our baby including a large plastic baby bottle bank filled with goodies and wrapped with a ribbon and a tiny stocking. It was a joyous Christmas despite the horrible morning sickness.

Then February brought heartbreaking news and our hopes and dreams came crashing down around us. We weren't going to hold and cuddle this baby afterall, we would never find out if it was a boy or a girl, we wouldn't be a Mommy or Daddy that year or perhaps ever, and we wouldn't be hanging a third stocking up beside ours next Christmas. We mourned instead, and we would mourn again three more times that year.

The next Christmas had an altogether different feel to it. As we opened up our Christmas boxes half-heartedly, we found the tiny stocking from the year before carefully packed away. I ran my hand over the red felt and remembered the joy of the year before. Suddenly I was surprised to feel something inside. Now intrigued, I looked inside and pulled out a small ziplock bag that had $100 bill and a Post-it note that read "For Baby Garner, to put in the bottle bank when it is empty. Love from Gramie and Granpa."

Though we didn't have the heart to hang up the tiny stocking, that Christmas we bought three more tiny stockings and put all four into a box. In subsequent years we sadly added more until our box now holds 11 tiny stockings, a small rememberance of precious lives dearly loved and wanted.