I was almost 2 or almost 3. Old enough to have heard the Christmas story and seen the pictures at Sunday School and on my mother's knee. So I was "reading" the story to myself. My version, according to my mom's diary, went something like this:
"And they found the baby lying in a manager, wrapped in swaddling clothes, trying to wiggle but couldn't."
Merry Christmas to all who drop by here today.
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