Marcia’s birth parents loved each other and loved her as well. But cultural circumstances were stacked against them. Perhaps in today’s society they’d be able to get married and raise their little girl as a family. But thirty-three years ago that wasn’t an option for them.

They made adoption plans, and they let their precious baby go.

Every year since then during the December holidays I get out a nativity scene that they gave to me. I remember them and think of Marcia. When they gave me this gift, I appreciated it. But it took some time for me to fully grasp that a nativity scene is the perfect symbol. There are all of the figures: a mother and father welcoming a baby under impossible circumstances.

Today I boxed up the nativity scene, and I’m mailing it to Marcia. I think it belongs to her. When she uses it, she’ll remember that she has always been loved.