Magical Creature Land: Part 3

[continued from part 2, here]

Deep in the bottom of the sea, past coral and seaweed and many strange creatures, she found the Encantado’s cave. Yellow Grass was eager to help. She said the spell was etched into a stone buried with rocks in shallow water. If they could reach it before the tide came in, they might be able to find it.

Green Grass Sweet swam to the shore as fast as she could. Returning to her human form, she ran with Unicorn Purple Sky and dragon BeeBee to the spot Yllow Grass had specified. As the tide crept in, they furiously rummaged through the rocks.

“I found it!” cried Unicorn Purple Sky. “This is it!” The friends held hands and read the spell together with their toes in the rising water. The Unicorn fell into the water, at least returning to her selkie-seal form.

“Huzzah!” cried the friends.

“Farewell Beebee! We’ll see you again soon!” the two selkies cried as they swam out into the sea, towards the setting sun, laughing and splashing as they dove deep into the water.

The End

 . . . for now . . . 

© Reyes Family Productions

We hope you enjoyed our story Fazakerley girls! Maybe you could send us a story of your own! 

P.S. Happy Valentine's Day!

Magical Creature Land: Part 2

[part one of the story found here]

Green Grass Sweet scrambled to put on the selkie coat Unicorn Purple Sky threw to her, and race towards the sea as rain drops splashed on her head. But before she was close to the waters edge, Star Monsters began to dive to the ground, in between the friends and the water.

Green Grass Sweet ran left. Unicorn Purple Sky ran right and flapped her wings to distract the monsters. Beebee blew great flames as he ran close behind Green Grass Sweet, warding off the monsters coming towards her.

Green Grass Sweet narrowly escaped the monsters with the help of her friends. Scrambling to get her arm into the sleeves of her selkie coat as she ran, she dove into the water, just in the nick of time.

As the waves crashed over Green Grass Sweet, her human form melted away and she began to smoothly glide through the water with her new seal flippers. She twirled and soared through the water, enjoying her new form.

Eventually she remembered her friends and emerged at the surface to show them it had worked, she’d become a seal! “Hooray!” cried the unicorn and dragon. “Now you can help me to turn back into a selkie too! You must find my friend, Yellow Grass. She is an Encantado, a dolphin who turns human on land. She has not come to the surface in a long time, so I have not been able to ask her where the spell that can turn me back into a selkie is hidden. You must find her cave and get the clues! “I will do my best,” cried Green Grass Sweet, as she dove beneath the water again.

to be continued . . . 

Magical Creature Land

Dear Eiley and Margot,

Sofia, Daniel and I have lots of fun imagining and playing together. Recently, we developed this story about Magical Creature Land. We thought you might enjoy reading it or acting it out, so we're sharing it with you hear, in installments, so you can get excited to find out what will happen next. We hope you enjoy playing it as much as we did!

Love,
Sofia, Daniel and Zoe

Magical Creature Land:

Part 1

Once upon a time, there was a purple unicorn named Unicorn Purple Sky. She entered the land of humans, called Earth.

Unicorn Purple Sky had been born as a selkie (a human that becomes a seal in water), but a star monster did not like selkies, so it turned her into a unicorn. She missed her selkie life so much. She at least wanted to see a selkie.

She ran through the forests of earth until she was spotted by a kind young girl who befriended her. The young girl, Green Grass Sweet discovered her new friend was no ordinary horse, she was a unicorn!

Unicorn Purple Sky invited Green Grass Sweet into Magical Creature Land, where she was queen. She explained that in her land, she had the power to transform Green Grass Sweet into a selkie if she wished. Green Grass Sweet had always wanted to live in the sea, so she eagerly agreed.

Waving her wand, Unicorn Purple Sky brought them into Magical Creature Land. The sky was purple. The sea was black. The grass was yellow.

Selkies and unicorns fed on the yellow grass, which tasted like lemon. The grass helped the unicorns produce a healing tea that tasted like peach and was poured out of their horns.

Unicorn Purple Sky warned Green Grass Sweet of the star monsters before she entered the sea and became a selkie. They appeared as creature constellations in the night sky. But when it began to rain, the weight of the water brought the star monsters down, riding on rain drops.

Star monsters do not like selkies who can explore the sea freely while they are confined to the sky. So they try to catch selkies on land and trap them there by transforming them into unicorns, which they believe are more beautiful.

Unicorn Purple Sky suddenly stopped and became silent. Her horn also worked as a radio antennae, and when she heard a beautiful song come through to her head, she would flap her wings, amplifying the music, and begin to dance along. Green Grass Sweet also loved the music coming from her new friend’s wings, so she joined into the dance.

Out from the forest emerged a tiny adorable dragon, attracted by the music. Without a word, but with a great smile, he joined the dance as well. After all their delightful dancing, they took a rest and introduced themselves to each other. The dragon’s name was Beebee.

“I’m hungry after all that dancing!” cried Beebee. Knowing how much dragon’s love gold, Unicorn Purple Sky and Green Grass Sweet gathered together a picnic of yellow grass for themselves, golden cheddar crackers for Beebee, and healing peach tea from the alicorn, sweetened with golden honey for them all.

“Uh oh!” cried Unicorn Purple Sky. Drip. Drop. Drip. It was beginning to rain. In all the fun of their dancing, a picnic and new friend, they had forgotten about the danger of the star monsters.

To be continued . . . 

Dear Sofia, very Belated Happy 3rd Birthday

Dear Sofia,

Mommy is a hot mess lately, isn't she? Your birthday was nearly two three months ago (January 4), and I haven't gotten around to my annual letter. But I fear that once your baby brother arrives, keeping up this tradition at all will really be impossible, so I'm aiming to at least get one last letter documented. Maybe after that, you'll be able to understand birthday cards I write you well enough that it won't be so necessary to have letters for future reference.

You've endured so much change in the past year. While you'd already moved from California to Maine, this year, you were aware of a move for the first time. It was hard not to buy this house we're in now, given that after plenty of house tours, as soon as we drove in this driveway you declared, "This is my favorite house!" And while you've always stood by your opinion without fail, you also really loved the house you spent most of your first two and a half years in and are only just now, after being here over six months, starting to really move on. But in this new house, we've been able to start our truly own garden together, play on a play set we inherited from the previous owners, and you've determined two favorite "owl trees" in our woods, which you love to "climb." And by climb, I mean perch in their diverting branches, quite squished up, but happily telling me stories about your life as an owl and all the events that surround your existence. In the summer, we picked wild blackberries, raspberries, and strawberries - which are the tinniest little red and sour things that you still take great delight in - in our own backyard. You have also become fond of our new neighborhood. From our previous house, we could walk to a wooded path, playing fields, a field house, a play ground, the college campus, and you even ran between our house and downtown more than once, insisting you wanted to walk home instead of drive. We're much more removed now, but down the street from us, neighbors have what might have been the base of a flag mast? It is a small rectangular prism a few inches high. An object of such seemingly little consequence. But you have named it "Little Stone" and I think you love that thing with more care and concern than most of the toys you own. When weather used to permit, which included plenty of very rainy days, you would want to walk to visit Little Stone multiple times per day to look after it, feed it, hug it, and I had to pull you away from kissing it constantly. It is hard to keep your child from exuding such genuine affection, no matter how strange the object.

In addition to a new house, you're also getting a new little brother. You've had to put up with a very tired Mommy. You often get upset with me for being constrained to the couch when you want me to be a more invigorating actor in your play, but your empathy continues to shine, as you care for me with compassion and service. While a year ago, you were just barely starting to be willing to use people's names, now you are quite generous with names for all people and things. You've named your little sibling "R2-D2 Googol Gonnit Reyes." I hope you're not too upset when we change his name. You seem pretty amenable to all the ideas we run by you, so I'm hopeful, but I won't be surprised if we all keep calling him Gonnit for some time. You were hoping for a little sister, without a doubt, but you've kindly jumped right on board with having a baby brother. And I know you two are going to have so much fun together. I can not wait to witness it. You have been demonstrating to me your sweet big sister skills with our friend's baby brothers, especially your buddy Charlie's little brother, Henry. We see him multiple times per week for our homeschool preschool co-op. We're always having to pull you off of him because you have even more kisses for Henry than you did for Little Stone, and Henry's not quite so willing of a recipient, as it often means his space is being invaded and he's often being squished under your love. Last week, you stared into his little eyes and told him, "Henry! You just fill me with so much love!" And I about teared up. I know Gonnit will burden you and demand more sacrifice from you than Henry, but I trust you will also find ways to love him even more deeply. It tends to work that way with difficult things.

This past December, you had to come to grips with death for the first time. After a long drawn out struggle with strokes, pneumonia finally took my Grandpa from us all together. The morning I heard the news, I hid out in the office, crying and writing, trying to process what has been one of the most significant events of my own life. You knew him too. You'd played with him several times, and even though he was far apart, and largely without language by the time you came around, you two shared a sweet connection. But mostly, I think you knew in your heart all he meant to me. When I resurfaced for breakfast that morning, you were very concerned by how sad I looked and the tears that wouldn't stop streaming down my face. Not wanting you to be scared, I did my best to explain to you what had happened. Somehow, despite the fact that you weren't quite three at the time, you seemed to possess a wise and deep understanding of the significance of that morning. With calm, quite, sincere eyes, you looked deep down into me with compassion. You jumped right out of your chair, ran to me, and hugged me and told me how sorry you were that he had died and I was so sad. When I continued to cry later that morning, you jumped into action. You ran over to Daddy, grabbed his hand, and placed it into mine, saying, "Here Mommy, I brought Daddy to comfort you!" You knew just what I needed. I worried so much about bringing you to Texas when I traveled there for the funeral, but you were so flexible and cooperative and did so much good to lift everyone's spirits with your beautiful, hilarious, loving self, that I feel rather confident things would have been much worse off without you.

Following your first encounter with death, a few weeks ago, you made a decision for yourself to choose life. In the middle of an ordinary day, during a very ordinary lunch, while Daddy had already finished and left to start washing dishes, you struck up a conversation with me about whether God dwelled in your heart. And on that day, you chose to run toward Jesus so that He would gracious remove all your sins with His forgiveness and allow you to dwell in the house of the Lord forever. It was simple, quiet, undramatic, and one of the most treasured conversations you and I may ever share. Your decision has come out of many things, including your fascinating curiosity to understand whatever Mommy and Daddy are talking about, and your obsession with the Jonah story. He chose to run from God at first, but unlike him, you are choosing to run to God instead.

Probably of all Bible stories we could read to you, you request to hear that one most often, and are most full of questions about it. As I think of it now, I relate that story to my own decision to come to Jesus too, as it was after a Vacation Bible School week themed on Jonah that I asked my own mother many of the questions you asked me. Funny. But your questions are such good ones. Through your repetition and teasing apart the details and comparisons between Jonah and other stories we read, I've learned so much through you. You've helped me see the link between Jonah on a boat, asleep in the middle of a storm, to Jesus, also asleep on a boat in the middle of a storm. But while Jonah had his companions throw him overboard, Jesus calmed the storm with His authority and power. Your strong will, frequent refusal to sleep, persistent attempts to put foreign objects in your mouth, and general toddler-hood often make our life feel like a storm, but your perceptiveness and light and compassion and joy also help us remember that even in the midst of storms, Jesus is Lord. And I am so grateful that you've made Him the Lord of your life.

We are learning much together through preschool too. We have a homeschool preschool co-op with your buddies Charlie, Lili, and Phoebe. Our three families get together twice each week for crafts and calendars and stories and play and snacks. We are having the time of our lives growing closer to these friends and watching all your many skills blossom. Right now, we are doing a space unit that has you and I making "out space crafts" even in most of our spare time apart from actual preschool sessions. Your favorite thing is talking about the phases of the moon, especially when we go out at night as a family to see what phase it is in that night and what constellations we can see. You are full of stories of the adventures of Orion the Hunter and what he gets up to when he's not up in the sky.

In addition to preschool, for the sake of all our sanity, we've instituted a daily morning routine. 1: Wake up 2: Breakfast 3: Family Time for God 4: Numbers with Daddy 5: Letters with Mommy. Whittling away in all these things, we've seen you grow by leaps and bounds in your capacities. You are dressing yourself, helping set and clear the breakfast table, growing in knowledge of scripture and Bible stories and ability to listen and hear from God. You can reliably count to 29 on your own, by 5's or 10's to 100. Your favorite number is googol. You're learning to write your letters and are getting better every day. You've already started to spell words [must be your daddy's genes], and are reading beginner books when you feel properly motivated. It seems like the greatest lesson we're working on in letters is more about perseverance than anything else. But even if you face challenges, you manage to blow people away with your vocabulary, depth of understanding, and hilarious wit. You wow us, Sofia.

Despite the business of life and my own overwhelm with pregnancy, our days are filled with awe over how wonderful and delightful you are, what a blessing you are in our lives. I could never comprehensively recount all the truth and weight of this in detail. Thank you for being in our lives, for being our precious daughter.

I love you, Baby Girl!
~Your Mommy

Pay Back

Some of you may remember that Zoë is not actually my real name. I decided my given name just didn't fit me, so I tried on a few options and after some months of what my surrounding authorities and guardians must have feared was a blossoming personality disorder, I landed on Zoë and have remained so ever since. "When did you change your name?" people always ask. "Third grade," I reply, and then they choke on what they're eating a tiny bit, or make that kind of laugh that sounds like they're gulping at the same time. 

From that point on for a few years, I went through a frustrating phase where I was always fighting the system and reminding my parents, "NO! It's ZOË!" I just couldn't understand what was so difficult about it. But eventually, in sixth grade, three years later, the name took, and even distant relatives got the hang of it with only occasional slip ups. "FINALLY!" I thought to myself. 

Well . . . pay back is coming my way. I worried and stressed and agonized over my baby's name choice because of all I'd gone through around my own name. I figured, "No matter how well I choose her name, she's going to want to change it, she'll be my daughter after all!"And I figured, when that day came, I'd smile, nod, and chuckle to myself knowingly, quickly going with the flow and using her name of choice. That day has come sooner than I'd expected. My dear sweet little Sofia Arabella has decided that she is now, "Mario." Yes, that is Mario, as in Nintendo's Mario and Luigi. 

And now, all I hear, a hundred times a day is, "NO! It's Mario!" Because as much as I am smiling and nodding and chuckling to myself, I just can't get with the program and remember to use her name of choice. Let's hope that within three years, she's grown out of it. 

Dear Sofia, Happy 2nd Birthday

Dear Sofia,

A year ago, I reflected on our life together regularly and wrote about it on this blog. But in the past several months, our lives have been so full together, it has been hard to find space to stop and consider who you are becoming and who we are becoming together. But today, on your second birthday, I want to hit pause for a moment and let myself revel in the wonderful "little lady" you have come to be.

I can't seem to stop from staring at a collection of photos from your first year lately. I barely recognize that baby, you've changed so much. You have hair now, you're several inches taller, and you're a little girl, not even a toddler, certainly not a baby at all.

Sofia this time last year = cute santa baby

Our little lady now

A year ago, I told you, you were a woman who knew what she wanted. Now you are a woman who can tell us, very clearly, exactly what she wants, how she wants it, and how she feels when she doesn't get it. Watching your language explode this year has been the most shocking, marvelous delight. 

For a few months there, you put up a strike on saying names. Instead, you would refer to people as, "the green girl who is happy." If I quizzed you about a person to see if you actually knew what names referred to which people, you could indeed tell me that Kelly drives a "white van," and Theresa drives a "red car." You knew their names (and all sorts of other details about them!), you just refused to speak them. 

Just about a week ago, you finally gave up the strike and have so much to tell us about all of your friends. "Charlie says 'yes! yes!'" and "You do sing songs with Lili at the library," and "You did grab from Hazel." Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, while you are amazingly verbal, you speak all sentences as if from my perspective. The pronouns can get very confusing. "I do want some coffee" you exclaim with vigor, as I respond with serious concern, before I realize, you know just how much Mama needs her caffeine in the morning. 

You are richly empathetic. When I cough, you gaze at me with compassion and suggest I get some tea. When you see that someone you love adores you, you scamper over to give them a kiss. When you see that someone is sad, you rush to give them a hug. In fact, you take such joy in cheering people up, that you regularly request that Daddy and I draw you a crying child, just so that you can grab that paper to your chest to hug the boy or girl, "Now he is happy," you resolve as you go about your own doodling. Indeed.

Entering into the world of toddler arts and crafts has been one of the most fun experiences of my motherhood. You are getting so good at coloring in (and around) shapes, you can draw up, down, left, right, and a slanted line from top left to bottom right, though the inverted slant seems to throw you for a loop. You'll figure it out in time. For some reason, seeing you achieve the ability to draw circles round and round gives me particular happiness. You are becoming quite adept at using a glue stick. You glued all of our Jesse Tree ornaments together for me with amazing focus and determination, nearly all in one sitting. We also love to finger paint. You love for me to cover your whole hand with a color so that you can make prints all over your page. You had great fun making hand print salt dough ornaments as gifts for Christmas. Though Mommy learned a little lesson about doing two "dough" activities back to back this Christmas season. When we made ornaments only one day after having used the same cookie cutters to make cookies, it became nearly impossible to explain to you that ornaments were not to be eaten. 

A year ago, I told you that your favorite color was "blue circle" because of a particular block you were obsessed with. Now, I see such passion for beauty that I don't know that you could pick a favorite color (though I've seen some consistent leanings towards green, which may of course be my own bias for that color), much less a favorite creature, or flower, or even food. 

A year ago, I told your pediatrician that getting you to eat solid foods was one of the banes of my existence. We could barely keep you in your high chair long enough to keep your weight from dropping below the 5th percentile. Yesterday, we said goodbye to that high chair all together and promoted you to a booster seat. You are eager to try colorful curries and exotic noodles and steaming soups, as long as you are informed of what you are eating, and prefer your foods dissected and separated. I don't doubt this is a temporary blissful little phase where you are willing to try new things, but I'm enjoying it while I can. And of course, just because you'll try it, doesn't mean you will eat it in great quantity, or in efficient time. I recently let you eat some granola and clocked you at a 3-5 minute per oat rate of consumption. I about lost my mind with impatience. Now I'm the one who is eager to get you out of your seat, instead of the other way around. 

You still love your Christmas snoopy, and this year you even figured out how to turn him on yourself. You love to dance any chance you get, be it with Auntie Nina in the kitchen, with Mommy in the playroom, with Daddy at each break of the hockey game, or with your stuffed animals along to the music of your birthday card. Your still primarily use the move of bobbing up and down, but now you will often do that while running in circles at the same time. You never fail to make us laugh. 

A year ago, we could barely get you to sit still for the length of a board book, now you can't get enough  of reading. I even started in on a Winnie the Pooh chapter book the other day and you stayed cozy in my arms for the length of a whole chapter. That is my bliss. You made us read Richard Scarry's "Best Friends" about Huckle Cat's birthday so many times (nearly every time we put you to sleep - that's twice per day for months on end), that I felt I had no choice to throw you a Huckle and Lowly birthday party today. I sewed you your own Huckle and Lowly dolls, and though the stitches are all showing, his overall straps do not match up, and he looks like he has crazy eyes, you grabbed him to your chest and said, "you love him!" and that made my day. 

Not only will you let us read your Bible stories to you now, but you have memorized most of the words for yourself and can recite them aloud to us. You also say many of the words in the Lord's prayer along with us at bedtime. You pray for birds, for squirrels searching for acorns, for the sun, for Big Mama and Big Papa, for Grandma and Grandpa, Auntie Nina and Tio Eddie, for your friends, for people you've seen who are sad, for people who have shown you love, for food that you like, for pain that you don't. It is inspiring to see you learning to pray. 

After preparing for Christmas through the advent season by reading various parts of the Christmas story, we attended a service at our church where they read and sang songs that walked through the whole story together. We were amazed at your engagement with the service, your interest in what was being said, your comprehension and ability to join in with what you knew of the narrative. Hearing you say, "Immanuel means God is with us" is a sweet gift for Daddy and me. One of the sweetest hours of my life was spent watching you play pretend with the characters in our manger scene. I hope these are the first of many steps you take in walking closer to Jesus. 

We have been trying to introduce you to God. We recognize that everyone is doing spiritual parenting, it's just a question of how you're doing it. We're trying to be intentional. We tell you about how God loves us, how He is with us, how powerful and compassionate He is. We think we have a lot to teach you. But then you come back with questions or statements of complicated theological musings that we don't always have answers for. We love that you challenge us, and we hope we'll always be able to admit that we don't have all of the answers, we hope you'll make sure we always keep searching for truth and seeking to know God more fully through His son, Jesus. You once asked me, "Where is Heaven? You will look for it." Amen and Amen.  

I never knew a child could exhibit so much amazingness. I never knew another human being could make my heart feel so very full. You inspire my heart to love God more. Sometimes at the meal table, you will reach your arms out to either side to draw Daddy and I in to one big family hug. You give Daddy and I such delight that we can't help but love each other more dearly. We still go bed every night, gazing at pictures of you. This is what it means for a heart to fill to overflowing. I continue to be undeserving of you, my sweet. Your birth and your life continue to be one of the greatest gifts I've ever been fortunate enough to receive. 

I love you bunches and tons, tons and bunches! Happy Second Birthday Sofia Arabella! 

Love,

Mommy

Fear of Creating a Christmas Monster

In case you hadn't noticed, it is Christmas time. Last year, Christmas was stressful because we traveled to see both of our families [one in Texas, one in California]. This year, still recovering from last year, we said no travel. This year, I'm under pressure of an entirely different sort.

As far as Sofia was concerned, Christmas wasn't too big of an issue last year. She got buried in gifts, which she loved, but the event itself didn't much sink in. Now, we are approaching the first Christmas where Sofia will be aware enough to develop some expectations for next year. This has been freaking me out. 

I watched videos after Halloween of parents pranking their kids, pretending that they'd eaten all the trick-or-treat spoils. Those kids melted down like it was an Apocolypse. It was then I started worrying about the precedent I'd be setting for Sofia this Christmas. And sure enough, as we walked the isles at Target a couple of weeks ago, she was grabbing at every toy on the shelf shouting, "I want that! What is that? I want that!" Those toy makers sure know their market. Oyvey. 

I can still remember the joy I felt at discovering that Christmas was a season of giving. When I was old enough to have a little allowance, I could save up and then go shop for presents for my family and friends. It was so much fun that it began to outweigh the fun of receiving gifts. And so as I approach Sofia's first memorable-Christmas, that was the joy I wanted to teach her. I wanted her to know that God gave us the greatest gift, His own Son, and so we too give gifts to others to follow His example and show our gratitude to God. 

And we're doing activities to try to teach her about giving. She participated in Operation Christmas Child with our church, she's making crafted presents for our family members, today she decorated a cookie as a gift for Daddy, etcetera.  

But I don't want to give her zero presents. Heaven knows I can't hold the grandparents back [nor do I really want to, they come up with great stuff that I couldn't afford to provide her]. How does one lavish love and supply excitement without creating an entitled brat? I was coming up short on an answer to this question. 

. . . until today, when I heard this quote from Brennan Manning:

"The Kingdom belongs to people who aren’t trying to look good or impress anybody, even themselves.  They are not plotting how they can call attention to themselves, worrying about how their actions will be interpreted or wondering if they will get gold stars for their behavior.  Twenty centuries later, Jesus speaks pointedly to the preening ascetic trapped in the fatal narcissism of spiritual perfectionism, to those of us caught up in boasting about our victories in the vineyard, to those of us fretting and flapping about our human weaknesses and character defects.  The child doesn’t have to struggle to get himself in a good position for having a relationship with God; he doesn’t have to craft ingenious ways of explaining his position to Jesus; he doesn’t have to create a pretty face for himself; he doesn’t have to achieve any state of spiritual feeling or intellectual understanding.  All he has to do is happily accept the cookies: the gift of the Kingdom."

- Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel, copyright 1990, 2008, page 53

I'm not sure Brennan was thinking of Christmas when he wrote it, but I was. I was decorating Christmas cookies, wondering how many I'd let Sofia eat when she got up from her nap (or lack there of, because I let her eat one this morning and that seems to have been enough sugar to last her through the rest of advent). But I think it gets at a piece of Christmas I've been forgetting about for years, or a piece I've maybe never grasped at all. Yes, Christmas is a season for giving. AND it is also a season for receiving. Accept those cookies. Accept those gifts. Accept THE gift. It made me think of a passage I've been meditating on lately, that talks about Christmas, children, and receiving:

John 1:

⁹ The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world.¹⁰ He was in the world, and though the world was made through him,the world did not recognize him. ¹¹ He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him. ¹² Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— ¹³ children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God.

The tragedy in the story of the life of Christ is that He was not RECEIVED. And for those who did [do] not receive, they pass[ed] up the right to become CHILDREN of God. 

There is an art to receiving. I think I often do not do it well. I am too often un-gracious and ungrateful of my gifts. But I can be working on that. And if it's taking me this long, it probably couldn't hurt starting to teach Sofia now a thing or two about how to receive well. We can start with receiving Christmas gifts, with delighting in the excitement of unwrapping something new, with showing appreciation and value for the giver. And as we get that discipline down, maybe we will prepare her little heart to receive the gift of Christ, the gift of New Life, with reverence, with gratitude, with humble honor and affection for the giver. 

The giver of all good gifts doesn't just need us to be givers. First of all, He needs us to be recipients.