Since our oldest, Hudson James, was just a few days old, we have been taking him to see Santa Claus at the Neiman Marcus in downtown Dallas, TX. As first time parents we were young, sleep deprived, and naive, but we wanted to start this fun, family tradition. Before we had children, some things just felt silly doing as two grown adults, but now that we had a child each new adventure carried an added meaning.

Through the years, we continued going to Neiman Marcus for our holiday photos with Santa. Some years the boys were happier than others [as you can see] but we always looked forward to the visits. I loved picking out what they would wear, practicing their smiles with them, framing each new photo we received, and of course posting it all over social media so everyone knew it had really happened.

This year’s visit was no different. I had gotten the boys the cutest monogrammed Christmas pjs as well as new slippers to wear for their visit with the big guy. I spent most of the morning making sure they looked their best, telling them how to smile, and praying that Henry wouldn’t throw a fit once we got there. Just before we left, I pinned the boys’ “Harper pins” on them and inspected them one last time before heading out the door.

The Harper pins were little angel pins with Harper’s birthstone in the center. I passed them out to many friends and family after we buried Harper. Every time I see someone wearing one, it warms my heart. It’s a small detail, but seeing the pin lets me know that others are remembering-that they might not be able to relate to our grief, but that they are grieving Harper with us.

Once we arrived, we quickly got in the growing line to see Santa. We were surrounded by cute little boys and girls of all ages as well as parents who were just trying to keep their children put together long enough to get through the picture. Of course, the little girls are what mostly caught my eye. My mind started to wander somewhere I had not given it the opportunity to wander to earlier.

What would Harper be wearing today?

Would she be in a monogrammed pj dress to match her brothers?

Would she have a fun, frilly bow in her hair?

I tried to push these thoughts aside and focus on our precious boys. I so just wanted to enjoy this moment, this family tradition with them. As we approached the front, I said hello to the photographer and quickly made what I thought would be a simple, easy request.

“They are wearing little angel pins because their sister died this year. Could you please make sure you can see them in the photos?”

Oh, how those words broke me. I instantly fell apart. Everything I had been trying to avoid and hold together came crashing down on top of me. Our photographer looked at me with love and empathy, gave me a hug, and said of course.

As the boys climbed on Santa’s lap, pure joy filled their faces. They were thrilled to finally have their time with him after all of the waiting and anticipation. And though I couldn’t see myself that day, I knew exactly what look filled my face.

It was the perfect mix of the deepest joy and the deepest grief wrapped tightly around each other.

I had a huge smile on my face because I was watching my two earthly children experience a meaningful family tradition...but tears streamed faster down my cheeks than ever before because I couldn’t help but think of the little girl who was missing from our picture this year.

In that moment I celebrated the picture that was, while mourning the picture that would never be. The photographer and his staff that day were so kind. They didn’t make us feel crazy for displaying such raw emotion, but instead took time to listen to our story and snap a few extra photos. They offered to email all of the pictures to us and showed true love and compassion.

While I waited to get some of them printed, a sweet lady and complete stranger came up to me. She apologized for eavesdropping, but asked if she had overheard correctly-that I had recently lost my daughter. Of course this kept the tears rolling, as I explained to her what had happened to our sweet Harper. The Lord must have known I needed this woman right in that moment, because she asked if she could pray for me. And right there in the middle of Neiman Marcus, that is exactly what she did. I could almost feel the Lord’s arms wrap around me in that moment, as she spoke words of truth, hope, and comfort over me. I’m not sure she will ever know how much that, the love of a stranger, meant to me that day.

The truth is, no picture we ever take will be complete again. All of them will have an awful, glaring piece missing. While others send their Christmas cards of their “happy and completed” families, ours will never feel the same.

The Christmas season can be so incredibly hard for those grieving. I have struggled with it more than I would like to admit.

But I find comfort in knowing that Harper is sitting on a lap so much sweeter than Santa’s. She is sitting on the lap of her Savior, Jesus Christ and really, what more could I want for my daughter?

I still hurt. I still cry. Trust me- I still selfishly wish she were with me instead, but I cling to the perfect peace of Christ and the small but still comfort I find in knowing she is with Him.

Merry Christmas, baby girl. We love you.