Sneaking out of bed on Christmas eve, sliding behind the living room sofa, hiding and waiting to see Santa come down the chimney. Lucky for me I was lying on a hardwood floor beneath a window with a down draft. I climbed back in bed to get warm and fell asleep. Santa was safe for another few years.
Watching my aunt, who was visiting from the south, make footprints out of fireplace ash so that my younger brother and sister would see proof that Santa had come down the chimney. I loved the almost grown up feeling of being behind the curtain. And I loved my aunt and my grandmother. I was so glad they came to spend the holidays with us.
My brothers and I begging and begging our mom to let us open just one present, please, please, please and her finally giving in. Testing each present, trying to decide which one would be the most fun.
Driving home from midnight mass. We lived in the country and passed miles of flat fields and farmland. We were listening to the radio and heard the announcer say that Santa was officially in flight. I remember looking out of the car window, up at the dark sky, hoping to catch a glimpse. I saw a shooting star. I just knew that was a spark from Santa's sleigh.
How about you, readers? What are your magical holiday memories?
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and a wonderful New Year.