The twins were at their fourth party in a week, and I went looking for a movie to watch. My son had downloaded The Giver on my phone, and since it has been awhile since the girls and I wept together in the theater I snuggled in under a quilt for a spell. 

The book impacted me deeply when I read it decades ago, for the way it slams a cleaver between freedom and happiness. The members of the community have relinquished their ability to choose for themselves. To feel deeply. To love. To give birth, to explore, to be naughty. Which renders their reservoir for gratitude as thin as the ice on my window. 

I celebrate when movies value babies. This one centers around the bond between Jonas, who is slated to receive the memories of an entire people, and the infant Gabriel. I boldly call that child by his name, something everyone else is forbidden to do. He has not yet been conferred with personhood, because he hasn't gained enough weight to earn it. The child is carelessly referred to as Uncertain. 

One of the weepy parts of the story for me is when Jonas's father kills a twin baby. Because of course there cannot be two alike. Yet Jonas sees the death for what it is, in a way that his father cannot. Having let go of his freedom to choose well, his father is released from the guilt of choosing badly. 

The Christmas story is shadowed by death. Herod cannot abide the possibility of sharing his power, and has every boy under the age of two murdered. For much of my life I tried to skip over that part. It was too horrific to hold. Yet it is a reflection of what I am capable of, when I extinguish innocence. Stamping over another person's hopes is as much of a homicide as what happened in Bethlehem, and I can no longer hide behind the false front of ignorance. Judgment is as sharp as any sword. 

Fueled by his love for Gabriel, Jonas finds the strength to pummel through pain, and exhaustion. To be braver than he was. Kinder.

Which is what babies can do for all of us.