They called him Hope. A fitting name, for he was the hope of his people and of the world, but few knew it. When he grew up, those he lived to serve would fear him and call him Strider, unaware that his journeys helped to bring them peace. Though born in a cottage deep in the wilderness, child of a disreputable Ranger, he was the King of Valor, the son of the Eagle of Arnor. But for now, he was one small child torn from home by tragedy and danger, clinging to his mother and watching the stars above Rivendell.
They called Him Salvation. A fitting name, for He is the salvation of His people and of the world, but few knew it. When He grew up, those He lived to serve would fear Him and call Him Teacher, unaware that His words had power to bring them life. Though born in a stable behind an inn, Child of a poor carpenter, He was the Prince of Peace, the Son of the God of Israel. But for now, He was one small Child torn from home by tragedy and danger, clinging to His mother and watching the stars above Egypt.
Aragorn and his people are not mine, and neither are Jesus's people. But Jesus and His Father are mine, not because I made Them up, but because They have adopted me into Their family. Because of the first Christmas, the God of Israel is my Ada! Is He yours too?
