Not that I have written a letter to Santa in quite some time, but the premise of doing so still maintains the same magical quality it did when I was six. It’s the one time of year you actually get to list out the things you have collaboratively hoped for over the duration of the year.
And when you wake up on Christmas morning some elusive man in a red suit will have carefully selected the items on your list and lovingly wrapped and placed them under your tree. Interesting concept if you really stop and think about it.
While making lists still entertains me to no end, the actual content has continued to change over the years. From “What I Want For Christmas” to ” What to Get Mom, Dad, Brother, Sister, Boyfriend, Grandma, etc., etc,” it would seem that what we hold important to us steadily changes as well.
No longer is the most exciting part of Christmas waking up at 6 am and opening stockings (ok, it’s still one of the most exciting parts), but even more so is simply arriving home Christmas Eve and seeing my dad waiting in the terminal at the end of the escalator. I find more joy in the little things. Watching my little sister’s excitement as she opens presents is way more fun than actually opening presents, snuggling by the fire, sipping hot cocoa and eating cinnamon rolls around the Christmas tree, the piles of wrapping paper and ribbon that threaten to take over the living room, the Christmas music playing in the background.
Nothing compares to the warmth of being surrounded by my family and those I love most.
Happy happy Christmas! Enjoy the little things!