This last Sunday was my birthday but I really kind of wished it wasn’t. It’s not because I’m getting older–I’m way past the age of caring. I didn’t want to take away from someone else’s special day. My stepbrother had served a stellar mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. So many of his friends had come out to celebrate with him, and it was a once-in-a-lifetime accomplishment. He deserved that, so I said nothing all day about it being my birthday. I’d almost pulled it off until my sister starting singing happy birthday to me while I was trying to collect my kids and things so we could travel the three hours home. Of course everyone reacted like they should, feeling sorry for ignoring me on my birthday, but I was actually happy that most of the day had been about him. Seeing the growth of my stepbrother’s testimony, a convert to the church himself as a young teenager, was the best present I could ever ask for. Birthday…Smirthday! I’ll have another one in a year!