‘Tis the Season

The Season Just because we all grow up physically does not mean we have to allow ourselves to grow numb to all the things that made us feel giddy as a child. Everyone knows how exciting it can feel to conjure up on Christmas morning. alone December long, we work to ring in the Christmas spirit by giving to others, displaying festive colors of green and red, and enjoying the constant Jingle of holiday music in the background of everything we do.I personally feel like a little kid, naive and blissfully ignorant very year on December 25th. Theres something magical approximately all the traditions and events that make me feel forever young at heart on this special day. At our house, though I am a fully-grown scarcely child, my parents still enforce the mystery of Santa Claus. On Christmas Eve we all gather In the kitchen, warmed by the radiating heat of a wood-fired stove, and bake odoriferous gingersnaps that embrace every room In the house with their saccharine fragrance.We lay t hem out on a festive plate with a refreshing scum of cold milk, and as I sleepily tiptoe my way to bed I pretend that I actually believe a chubby military personnel in a crimson suit will shoot out of our chimney and joyfully gobble them up while Im asleep. Then I wake up early the next morning and peek out the window and watch puffy white flakes descend gently to the ground, and the crisp, cold air chills the palms of my work force as I touch the frosty glass.My mind says there is no such thing as magic or flying reindeer, but as I observe the delicate snowfall and notice one lonely, half-eaten gingersnap left on our plate in the kitchen, my heart starts to believe all everyplace again. Later, when Im done absorbing the simple leisure of Christmas morning in my solitary silence, I drag my feet all the way to my parents bedroom and I wake them up. They reluctantly roll out of the comfort of their warm bed Like two teenagers getting up for school on a dreary Monday morning.After t hey pour themselves a steaming hot cup of bitter, black coffee, we all congregate in the living room around the Christmas tree. Before we even consider tearing into the overplus of gifts wrapped in shiny, foil paper and topped with curly ribbons, we sit together for a while, and we are hushed by the fatigue of early iron out and the distinct elegance of the glimmering lights that dress the tall, green tree that appear like stars in a cloudless midnight sky. Eventually someone will break apart the infinite silence by saying Whiffs going to open the first one? Then we dig into the various gifts, being particular with which boxes we choose first. sometimes I shake the box like a rattle to try and guess what lies within its layers of cardboard, scotch tape, and colorful wrapping paper. We all watch from each one other, waiting eagerly for a surprised reaction. When we are done scavenging through every Inch of the ere, we enjoy each others company and sit contently on our draw up wh ile we watch a classic, the movie A Christmas Story.Christmas, Im sure, is celebrated very different from person to person. Hopefully, my family. Christmas is a time to believe, whether that be in a Jolly, old, heavy(p) man, the spirit of giving, or the birth of Jesus Christ. Christmas is when people should let themselves feel young again, and for me, that means baking cookies and waking up early with my parents Christmas morning so we can watch a movie together. As the wise Dry. Issues once wrote, Maybe Christmas, the Grinds thought, doesnt come from a store.