It was a cold and clear Christmas Eve and the young family had just finished a big holiday meal. They were all gathered around the cedar tree, adorned with ornaments that had been handed down through several generations of their families. The three young kids were hoping beyond hope that their parents would allow them to open at least one present that evening.

Their father, Joseph, arose from his chair and said he needed to go check on a cow before any presents were opened. He had noticed a first-calf heifer that had been showing signs of impending motherhood when he and the oldest son had fed earlier that afternoon.

“It won’t take long, I promise,” he said to the disappointed kids. “She’s probably already delivered, but I just want to make sure everyone’s OK.”

Even though it was a clear evening, the new moon provided no more light than the millions of twinkling stars. It might be a little tricky finding a black cow on such a dark night, Joseph thought. Nevertheless, he bundled up and rode the four-wheeler off into the night, circling around the herd of cows in the pasture next to the house.

Unable to find the heifer in question, he thought to himself, “It is Christmas Eve; I’ll just follow that brightest star in the East.” It led him straight to the cow he wanted to find, and she was not in the situation he had hoped for — two little feet, a wet nose and a swollen tongue were all protruding from her business end.

Joseph grabbed his phone and called his wife, Mary, instructing her to open a gate to the barn so he could drive the distressed cow back home. “Which side of the barn?” his wife questioned.

“The side with the manger in it,” he replied.

A little while later, Joseph arrived with the cow in front of the headlights, and he and Mary eased the old girl into the shed. Before they even began to retrieve the calf, Mary called the house and told the kids, “We’re gonna have to pull the baby; you all know what to do.”

By the time Joseph and Mary had helped deliver a live calf, the three young wise ones had arrived at the barn, bundled up like Eskimos and each bearing gifts for the new baby. The youngest wise child was carrying a few soft towels that had been warmed in the microwave to dry and warm the baby calf. The middle wise girl had prepared an esophageal tube bottle filled with warm colostrum that would provide both warmth and nourishment for the calf, whose tongue was too swollen to nurse his mother immediately. The oldest wise son was lugging a bale of bright, shiny straw to scatter as a bed for the newborn.

After the entire family cleaned up all the tools, as well as themselves, they stared in amazement as the new mother gently licked and bonded with the tiny calf. Opening presents was only a distant thought on this dark and cold December evening, and for a moment, they all realized that there truly was peace on Earth that night.

This story plays out in real life, thousands of times each year, on thousands of farms and ranches throughout this country.

Merry Christmas.

Crownover farms in Missouri.