Every year, my parents ask me what I would like for Christmas. They tell me to make them a long list, and I can only assume that until the Christmas of 1997, my lists had been pretty generic. The definition of “basic”. Surely when they asked they expected me to answer with the newest toy or gadget, no doubt drawing my inspiration from the endless commercials that crossed our screens during back-to-back showings of “A Christmas Story.” My dad is still disappointed I never asked for a Red Ryder B.B. gun.
But that year, at the age of six, I designed for myself the perfect gift. I wanted what I called, “turkey pajamas.” Yes, you read that right. Turkey. Pajamas. I had pictured in my mind a matching flannel set. Top and bottom sprinkled with fat little turkeys and possibly some corn-on-the-cob and stuffing. My love for food related holidays has withstood the test of time. As has my parents’ willingness to go above and beyond to make me happy. My mom searched high and low for turkey pajamas which of course did not exist. So, she made them. When I opened my gifts that morning I saw the most perfect sweatshirt nightgown with an iron-on turkey, complete with metallic fabric paint embellishments. I loved it.
In the same way my Mom and Dad sought to make the desires of my heart into a reality, so does our Heavenly Father. His love and grace pour out on us daily, and I am privileged to get the opportunity to help teach our Little Villagers about that love. It is my greatest joy in life to answer the call God has put on my heart to help this team of people lead Village Heights.