This time of year is full of myth, magic, and miracles no matter what faith you follow. Whether it be the birth of a savior, everlasting oil, or the turning point of the year. It is a time of reflection, love, hope, and family.

There are miracles all around us. It can be easy to miss them, especially when we’re knee-deep in bills and trying to quell the latest meltdown. It can be easy to forget them when we’re struggling to get through the day, every day. But they are there, right in front of us.

My children are miracles to me. My husband and my sons, they saved me. They gave me direction when I was lost, hope when I wasn’t quite sure I remembered what hope felt like. When my youngest son was diagnosed with autism, it gave me a purpose above and beyond anything I’d ever expected.

This age of reason we live in doesn’t leave a lot of room for miracles, but they are all around us. Each smile, each laugh, each and every child in the world, regardless of health, social status, color, gender, or any label the world affixes to them. There is only one label that matters – miracle.


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