Our Own Christmas Miracle

Just about anyone who knows me also knows that I am pretty deaf.  I have 80 percent hearing loss in each ear so I am totally dependent on my precious hearing aids, I call them Connies because they are my connection to the world. I am grateful for technological advances that allow me to function pretty well, unlike my grandfather who for decades was entombed in a wall of silence or my singing, people loving, story telling father who was shut out of most conversations because the 1970s apple size appliances weren't much help.

Mine are fabulous.  I love them and I treasure them but I take them out during our noisy, bumpy metro rides.  Late Christmas Eve found us returning from a very fun senior couples party. The metro was packed and I couldn't get to the box in my bag where I carry my connies so Elder Pierson offered his pocket.  When we reached home, one of the connies was gone.  We were heartsick.

It was now well past midnight but Elder Pierson grabbed the flashlight and backtracked to the metro station. No connies.   We reviewed all of the possibilities.  Could it have come out as he pulled out his phone or glasses on the hour long metro ride?  Maybe when he reached for the keys as we got closer to home.

Our mood was not very festive as we headed for bed.  Neither of us slept well as we tried to think how we could replace my precious little machine. If it was on the metro, with a daily ridership of 9 million people, a lost and found would probably not be an option.

Christmas morning revealed that Santa never found our little apartment  Nothing under our tree.
As we looked at each other, "You didn't get me anything?" Really?  When you are glued together as we are, it's not easy to spring a surprise, so we didn't.

Months ago when family members  asked us what they could send, we were adamant that it was too expensive, maybe packages wouldn't get here and we were just fine.  Brave words in October that seemed not to apply to homesick missionaries on Christmas morning.  Add the real downer of my missing world connector and we were pretty glum.

My husband had carefully covered the blocks on our homeward route several times but in the early afternoon we headed to the store.  Looking carefully around, Dick spied a baby's binky and asked me if it might give me some comfort.  His next words were "Here it is!"   It was lying in the
snow, at the edge of the sidewalk, where hundreds had walked that day.  \

We still can't figure out how it got there.  I know he had checked that area over and over and it wasn't there.  We consider it the tenderest of mercies.  We know God is guiding and blessing us every moment we are privileged to serve Him.

Hosting these wonderful missionaries in our home for dinner  and then seeing their excitement as they were able to skype with their families (they are able to do it twice a year), we were reminded again of the miracle of this experience. Their families were from other parts of East Europe to Philadelphia to the mountain west.   Having been on the receiving end of many of these calls from our own missionaries, it was nice to be able to give these very focused, spiritually mature young people some love and support.  They are amazing missionaries.

So your Christmas is over?  Here in Russia we are just getting started!  Our sweet apartment supervisor, Lada, was excited that I was taking a picture of her hanging the decorations today.
Russians celebrate New Year's holidays (Jan. 1-5) then Christmas on Jan. 7 (Gregorian calendar)
so we are still loving this Christmas music, gifts and food!