Favorite Holliday Memory

I think it is a fair statement to say that the holidays are some of the most memorable times of years. We remember the joy we have of waking up with butterflies in our stomachs as children and creeping downstairs-- trying hard not to wake up the parents. But, upon seeing a tree flooded with brightly packaged gifts, are overflowed with such joy as to forget our former consideration and rush upstairs to tell mom and dad that Santa had come. I remember the sounds of winter-time classics, the smells and warmth shed by the kitchen which was being operated by my mother-- as hard at work as she'd be on any other day. Every room is brightly lit and filled with such happiness that the house feels at least a million times warmer than it had been the day before. Almost too hot... almost. Yet, when I come to think about it, I have almost no specific memories of Christmas or the holidays.

Christmas is warm on the inside with the cool and crisp outer shell of the winter breeze. Everyone emphasizes both giving and receiving gratefully. Yet I suppose that Christmas is so good that every Christmas has melded together in my memory. When I think of Christmas I am flooded with so many images of past Christmas’s that I can't differentiate between any of them. That is, except for one Christmas.

Most of the Christmas is just as any other one. I wake up and a clear note resounds in my head as I realize the importance of the day. I waste no time pondering whether to or not to stay in bed as I normally do and begin the slow and deliberate descent down the steps. I reach the bottom floor and-- upon seeing a tree flooded with brightly packaged gifts, am overflowed with such joy as to forget my former consideration and rush upstairs to tell mom and dad that Santa had come-- time flashes by two hours and I can smell the breakfast cooking and feel the steadily growing flame of Christmas all throughout the house. My mom and dad finally give the word. We're off to the races to look inside our stockings and soon afterwards begin opening our presents. I use "the best gifts ever" for several hours before guests arrive at our house. After eating from a table containing enough food to last a few weeks the guests leave. But this is all just as it would be any other Christmas...

The truly remarkable and special moment came after the guests left. Most Christmases we'd go about our own business after the guests left. However, this time we all sat together in the living room. Rather than playing with the "best gift ever," which I'd surely forget about or lose with a month, my family and I sat down by the father and watched various Christmas specials that normally were reserved for the days after Christmas-- and by that I mean me and my brother would watch them. My parents decided they didn't have to continue to work all night long as usual this Christmas and we all sat by a fire and watched Charlie Brown learn the meaning of Christmas. When Charlie Brown was learning about Christmas, I learned what Christmas is for me: Being with and cherishing the "best gift ever," my family.

Happy Holidays everybody.