Christmas is a time for miracles. We're celebrating, of course, the greatest miracle of all. But some miracles are of the minor variety — perhaps not even truly miracles at all. I'm choosing to see them as such, though. 

I experienced one of those minor miracles Christmas morning, and thought I'd take the opportunity to share with our RedState readers, who hopefully are enjoying their day, celebrating and relaxing and reflecting. 

Baking really isn't part of my skill set. Cooking, marginally so. But no one has ever accused me of being a baker. However, if you present me with some relatively easy-to-assemble goodies that can just be popped into the oven, I can usually manage not to make a disaster of them. 

We have a semi-tradition in my family of cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. Years ago, my mom started making them (the ready-made kind, nothing fancy) to have handy to nibble on as we gather and prepare to unwrap gifts. Now that the gift opening has migrated a bit later in the day to accommodate competing schedules, etc., we're more likely to nosh on pre-dinner sandwich fixings at Mom's house. So I've taken to fixing cinnamon rolls at my house on Christmas morning. When I remember. 

I was rather proud of myself this year — not only did I have the vast majority of Christmas presents acquired and wrapped and under the tree a week ahead of time (never happened before in my life — usually, I'm scrambling to wrap late on Christmas Eve, or even Christmas Day), but I also got my grocery shopping out of the way on Wednesday. (Well, except for a quick run to the store Sunday for the ingredients for my green bean casserole, which I'd forgotten I'd be making for Christmas dinner. But the bulk of the shopping was done Wednesday, so I'm counting it a win.) 

I didn't have the cinnamon rolls on my list but thought to pick them up while I was there and was excited to prepare them for my daughter and me to enjoy while we opened our presents together. Christmas morning, after having my coffee and puttering around the house for a bit, I went to the fridge to get the cinnamon rolls out and get the oven preheated. Only to discover that I screwed up: Instead of grabbing cinnamon rolls, apparently, I managed to grab just regular crescent roll dough. Cue the sad trombone...

I resigned myself to a cinnamon roll-less morning. Not the end of the world — we have muffins and other assorted items on hand to make do with. But when one of our regular readers mentioned her own Christmas miracle in the form of Christmas coffee cake that turned out just right in spite of having to turn off the oven and run out in the middle of its baking, I drew inspiration and decided to get creative. Surely, there must be something I could do with the dough and available fixings on hand to come up with a vaguely cinnamon roll-ish Christmas treat. 

A quick search led me to Baked Crescent Churros. I read the recipe and decided I was up to the challenge. So I went for it. And lo and behold, I managed to whip up a batch of churros. The presentation may have been a little lacking, but the churros, while not quite on par with ooey-gooey cinnamon rolls, were rather tasty if I do say so myself. 

A lesson to take from this Christmas morning: When life hands you crescent roll dough, make churros. And don't forget to look for the little miracles even while celebrating the big ones.  

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