Christmas, everyone knows, is a holiday for children. This is its magic.
It’s the day we celebrate the fact that, as Abinadi put it, “God himself” chose to “come down among the children of men” and join us by becoming a child (Mosiah 15:1).
At Christmas, we celebrate the fact that God became a baby.
Ten fingers and ten toes? I assume. Five or six pounds of flesh and bone, dimples, a shock of dark hair, eyes squeezed shut, already hungry, sucking his thumb? I imagine.
And all this—God as baby, Christ as child—is pivotal to “the great plan of the Eternal God” (Alma 34:9). This, somehow, is how God sets in motion his wild plan to save us.
Christmas isn’t just a reminder that God came as a child to save me. It’s a clue to how God, in his coming, saves me.
