T he weeks in Egypt passed pleasantly stretching into more than twenty months. Once again, they were housed in another’s home. The baby walked now, calling Joseph, “Abba.” Mary sat for hours playing with the child. It seemed she lived only for him. In her diary she wrote,

My life revolves around him. I wonder if it is more blessed to be a parent or to be a child?

Things are a pleasant havoc with him near. Everything has changed. One sweet smile, a hug or even a coo can make a day complete. I burst with emotion when I try to explain the way I feel. Love is not a strong enough word. Maybe adore or cherish.

As I held him for the first time, I did not feel worthy. I look into his newborn face seeing greatness and strength. I wonder if all mothers feel this way or if my baby really is destined for greatness.

I want to help him skip the small steps and boost him into higher things in life but I know he will have to struggle his way through things in order to make him strong. He will have to do almost everything by himself. I constantly fall short of all that I expect from myself. I often feel I have no idea what I am doing. I wonder if he will learn from me or I from him?

I know he is changing me because of the way I feel. He is such a precious gift. The discoveries that are waiting to be found. The potential for joy that one little face holds. His eyes are a clear, empty innocence. Knowing that he will look to me fills me with a need to strive for excellence within myself. I am pulled to him. I revolve around him. He is my sun.

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