A messy and miraculous Christmas story

For the nine Baker children, ages 2 to 13, the year 1962 began tragically and ended triumphantly - not unlike that first Christmas over 2,000 years ago.

It was a single car accident on a lonely and cold road. There were no eyewitnesses, but we know Mrs. Baker, who was driving, lost control of the pickup truck. It rolled, tossing both of them. They suffocated to death in the snow.

With no will, their nine children were placed in foster care - various homes in the area. Because noise makes news and tragedy travels fast, the plight and heartbreak of the Baker Nine became something of a national concern.

"The children won't stay together," one of the neighbors told the reporter.

"Children need parents, and if these children were put in this world together, they should stay together," a defiant Jean told Don. "We need children. We want these children."

This is where the many layers and providential twists of the story begin to emerge.

So, after seeing the story about the Bakers, Don Meyers called his parish priest, Father Bryon, who called Monsignor Michael J. Begley of Catholic Charities in Raleigh. The monsignor then called Catholic Charities in St. Cloud, Minnesota, which was managing the Baker case.

"There's room here in our home and in our hearts," Don Meyers said at the time. "God has blessed me with a generous income. I can afford to spend money raising children. It's a small return for the blessings given us."

It's increasingly old-fashioned to see children as blessings, as priceless gifts. Instead, modern culture too often considers babies costly burdens to avoid. This narrow-mindedness not only deprives families of fun and fulfillment, but threatens our very existence. That's because societies die when couples don't marry and have children.

Monica Harbes, who was just 2 when her parents died and 3 when she arrived at the Meyers', remembers the plane ride. "It was so exciting," she told me. Monica, along with her husband, Ed, now run the Harbes Family Farm out in Mattituck on the North Fork of Long Island. She says the Meyers "ran a tight ship with lots of rules, lots of structure."

The 13-sibling crew settled into a familiar if not challenging rhythm and routine. Their mother, who was a seamstress, stayed at home to raise the kids. They attended parochial school. All was well until tragedy struck again in 1969 when their adoptive mother died of lupus.

"The family imploded," Monica acknowledged. "Our dad remarried. There were other children. There was favoritism. We all began to go our separate ways." At 14, Monica wound up moving to New York to live with her sister, Pauline, and new husband. Those were tough years.

"Over the years, I've had to forgive," she recalled. "But all of us have to walk through forgiveness. Our family's story is a redemptive one. It's kind of messy, but so is life."

This past Dec. 17, as they do every year, the original Bakers (two have since passed away) connect on the phone or via group text to remember and commemorate that dramatic and pivotal day back in 1962. It's not coincidental that it coincides with Christmas.

It's a gritty story - an unmarried mother, an adoptive father, a baby born in filth far from fame and fortune, into a broken world with a king who felt threatened and wanted the baby killed.

Christmas reminds us that life, like adoption, is unpredictable, often messy, also mysterious, and yet still beautiful. It shows us that a child (or nine of them!) can change everything for the better - and not just one day, but every day, and for all eternity.