Red and Green Birthday

 By Linda K. Harris

People say December birthdays get lost in the holiday rush, and for a long time that’s how I felt about being a December baby. When my first-grade teacher announced that each student would get to wear a special pin and hand out treats on her birthday, I was excited, until my mom pointed out that school would not be in session on December 24.

“You can bring cookies the day before Christmas vacation,” she said.

“But that’s not the real day!” I protested. 

No amount of coaxing could console me.

I started compiling a grievance list: My presents were always wrapped in green-and-red paper or snowy scenes with Santa Claus, not real birthday paper. Gifts were combined with Christmas presents, with the explanation, “Since it was so close to your birthday, I decided to give you one present.” And parties . . . it was almost impossible to schedule a big party for December 24.

The morning I turned 10, I rushed into the kitchen to find Mom baking cookies in the shapes of Christmas trees and stars. She looked at me in dismay. “I can’t believe I forgot!” she said. “I haven’t even baked a cake!”

That did it. I decided my birthday was an enormous inconvenience for everyone. 

Finally, when I hit college, I came up with a solution and called Mom.

“I’ve decided to pick a new month to celebrate my birthday,” I said. “How about April?”

“What in the world are you talking about?” she asked.

“Well, you know how December is such a busy month for everyone.”

There was silence, and then she said, “You have no idea how wonderful it was for us to bring you home from the hospital on Christmas Eve.” She was crying.

So, I didn’t change the month. But when I got married, I vowed I would never have a December baby. My firstborn arrived in February. His brother was born four years later in May. But then nature took its course. My third child was due . . . in December. On the tenth, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl.

The night we brought her home the crisp winter sky shone with thousands of stars and the radio played Christmas carols. As I carried her into the house I spotted the decorated tree, and the Nativity scene beneath it. Finally, I understood what my mother had meant. What a wonderful time to have a child, with the world poised to celebrate the newness of life. What a gift it is to share a month with the greatest birthday of all!