Growing up as a little girl near Christmas is the most memorable thing. Putting my hideously wrapped presents, that my mother had tried to improve, under the brightly lit Christmas tree. The songs would be sung at the top of our voices made us all laugh due to our horrific, make-your-ears-bleed singing.
Christmas morning would be the same time and time again. Getting up at 4/5am opening the stockings, eating the chocolate and playing with whatever toy Santa had given me, mainly small dolls and the odd worm on a wire. The best thing of Christmas though was waking up my mother and dad. Jumping on their bed, alongside my brother, used to annoy them to the brink of hitting us with pillows until we calmed down. There was always that hope for snow, just to complete the "White Christmas."
Home Alone or The Grinch normally took our mind of it though. Everyone has their family favorite Christmas film. Ours is most likely Home Alone, than anything else due to it's simple amusingness. The smug little boy always makes everyone smile, if it doesn't, you're lying.
Soon after I was 8/9 my hopes and dreams came crashing down. Someone had told me Santa wasn't real. It must be a lie. Trying to prove it wrong was the hardest. Growing older knowing that "Magic twist" had slowly started to decrease. What am I going to do now? Hope and Pray? Stay up all night and keep pinching myself till he falls down our closed up chimney? - I don't know how he gets in a house without a chimney. He must be like a wizard of some sort, graduated from Hogwarts obviously.
Maybe he is real and those children just wanted to scatter my thoughts and confuse me. Well, we all know that Christmas gets better every year. Hopefully the Christmas dinner will replace that "Magic Twist." We will soon find out.
~ Soph.
