One of the hardest parts of moving has been leaving behind the little ones in our lives.

(not our little ones, of course).

(though some of these feel like ours)~

(taken by Julie, and even though Henry and George don’t live in IL, we miss them!)

We have been blessed throughout the years to become aunties and uncles, by blood or by name, to a group of lovely kiddos. I also have the treasured role as godmama to Mr. Zachary (who was born 4 months to the day before our Randa,

and of course, the friends of my children hold a special place in our hearts. I absolutely love that through the beauty of Facebook, photo messages, and even old-fashioned email, the girls and I still get to grow up with them.

But when it comes to my nephew and niece, the role is particularly sacred. My nephew Andrew is now 12, no longer victim to my ludicrous nicknames (Prince Pooh, for example) or my over-the-top gifts (a new wardrobe with a side of chocolate and stuffed animals, for example. I’ve learned so much about gift giving since having my own kids). We’ve moved on to having a great conversational relationship, one that involves Andrew teaching us new games and me picking my jaw up off the floor at how much he reminds me of my brother.
But our niece ChloeBug was born only months before we moved away, so I of course worry that she is going to forget who we are. I’m grateful that before we moved, we were able to capture moments like this

and that the girls and I were able to return to Chicagoland for her first birthday.

When it comes to gift-giving, I not only want to be superfluous (pink things. frilly things. completely impractical things), I want to be intentional, sending something that is meaningful and also symbolic of our relationship with our niece and our hopes for her.

So for our first Christmas away from sweet ChloBug, this seems to be the perfect choice:
This is easy-to-use, customizable recorded storybook is one of several offered by Dayspring, and God’s Christmas Promise is a beautifully worded and illustrated telling of the miracle of Christmas.

Though we will not be gathered together on Christmas Eve to eat too much, marvel at the cuteness, and give thanks for the Heaven-sent gift of Jesus, Chlobug will have a package to open. She will hear my voice (and if I can swing it, that of her uncle and cousins, too), and be reminded of a sacred promise, and know that she loved beyond words.

Visit Dayspring for more on these recordable storybooks.
Thanks to (in)courage for the opportunity to review this product.