The True magic of christmas
December 22nd, 2018
As I lay in the comfort of my home, surrounded by family during the holiday season, I can’t help but feel warm. This is one of my favorite times of the year, because for me…it is when I feel the most present, while reflecting on the past, and becoming increasingly excited for the future.
With time, I’ve realized I no longer write a Christmas list or send letters to Ol’ Saint Nick. Instead of telling my mom what I want for Christmas, she has to ask and the season becomes less of what I want, and more of what I should get others. And although that may sound like a good thing, I feel it is not. Of course it feels good to get someone something that will make them happy, and I feel (I hope) it is not so much the gift but the person who is giving it and the person who is receiving it. Nonetheless, it is a time where some feel intense pressure when buying presents. Now as I return home for the holidays I’m eager to spend time with family and friends, reenacting all my favorite traditions I did as a kid. It’s moments like these you wish you appreciated more when you were little because you look back and remember doing things with people who are no longer here…that as I’ve grown up, others have grown old.
I love the holiday season because it is, and always has been about the magic. Sure, as a kid I was excited about toys, but even more so I was filled with the joy of Santa, and his reindeer; to bake cookies and place a note next to the milk right by the tree. I remember doing it every year and having a parent, or aunt, or grandparent help me set up. Even though setting out milk and cookies was to further instill the Christmas spirit in me, it was something done together (and now I know, eaten by them). The magic was found in the fight against your eyes to keep them open, to hear the thud of a sleigh on the roof, to stealthily sneak down the stairs and see if the big man has come yet. That magic…that sweet, hopeful magic is the one thing that never goes away as you get older. I still feel it every time I come home during winter. And as you get older you realize the magic never was Santa, his reindeer or even the milk and cookies by the tree. The magic always is, and always has been instilled by family.
Ever year the thrill to jump out of bed and run towards the presents slows down. Everything that day seems to slow down. Presents have been bought, wrapped, given and torn apart. The crazy holiday hustle and bustle has finally come to an end. And I think that is the best part. I think that is the greatest gift Christmas has given me every year, and it gets better and better each year I get a bit older. Time slows down, and it is surrounded by those who matter most. Because nothing…nothing, beats the stillness that resides after the last present is opened, the food is eaten and only the soft music in the background keeps a steady beat. I truly believe it is one of the slowest times of the year, and what a better time to hold onto a single moment.
As a kid I used to believe that Santa would freeze time to travel the world and deliver presents. That was the magic of Christmas back then, and I’ve found that it’s still the magic of Christmas now.
A girl who still believes