A Christmas Eve
I remember that special tingling feeling that I always seemed to get around Christmas time as a child. It was pure magic, and I never wanted it to end.
The anticipation leading up to that marvelous day seemed to last forever, and the long winding down of the days until Santa would come was sometimes too much to bear.
We always got the Sears Wishbook in the mail, and I think I rifled through it a thousand times, dreaming of the countless gifts that were at my fingertips. Hoping that somehow, some of them would find their way into Santa’s sleigh, and into my home.
I always knew exactly what I wanted, and closed my eyes tightly as I whispered a secret prayer to the great white bearded man in the red suit. I was sure that he could hear me, and pictured him sitting in his comfy chair at the North Pole, looking through the same Wishbook that was on my lap. He knew what I wanted. He knew that I had been a good boy, except maybe for a couple small incidents, which I was sure he would overlook, because I was sincere and genuine when I told him how sorry I was for those unfortunate mishaps.
I remember sitting at the kitchen table and looking through the book with my little brother Scotty. We sat, mesmorized with the thousands of toys. Thousands and thousands of the most wonderful things ever imagined. Thousands of the most amazing feats of elfish workmanship that had ever made their way into such a glorious book.
Trains and planes and guitars and bat man pajamas and Hot Wheels and bikes and sleds and drums and GI Joes and cowboys and Indians and baseball bats and baseball gloves and toboggans and ice skates and hockey pucks and super balls and silly putty and bed tents and sleeping bags and superman capes and oh so much more. Even the Easy Bake Ovens looked delectably delightful to me.
All of the wonder and magic of Christmas hit me head on like a Buddy L freight train, screaming round the bend and heading straight for my bunk beds. It was all there, and it was all inside my head as I imagined this, and dreamed about that.
And then there was Christmas Eve. Ahhh the feeling, unlike anything I had ever felt. Christmas Eve, and Santa was already on his way. Looking out at the night sky, I would search for his blinking lights on the sleigh. I can remember the newsman on TV, telling all of us expecting children that his sleigh had infact been spotted over the Great Lakes, or up around Hudson Bay. Surely these news guys new what they were talking about. Surely they were keeping an eye on the progress of such an important event. The most important event of the year by far. No questions. This was it. He was on his way. All the waiting, all the dreams, all the wonder and magic andinnocent imagination had finally come to this one moment. Christmas Eve.
I could see the excitement in my brothers and sisters faces. I could smell Christmas in the air, as plain as the chocolate chip cookies that mom had made to set out for Santa.
Christmas Eve had come, and I was smack dab in the middle of it. I had a front row seat to the best event of the year.
The excitement that surrounded our home was incredible. The icicles, gleaming and twinkling on our wonderful Christmas Tree meant even more. The electric candle lights in the picture window in the living room would surely send a sign to Santa that we were all waiting for him.
How could he know all of these things though? How could he work such magic on such a cold and wintery night? How could he do all of the wondrous things? How could such an amazing thing become so true?
I had all kinds of questions, but only He had all the answers. Only he knew what to bring. Only He knew when I fell asleep. Only He knew how much I loved him and Christmas.
“Time for bed everyone!” Those words from mom rang through me like a thousand church bells. Finally, it was the last leg of the Christmas miracle. Finally, all of my waiting and hoping and dreaming and imaginations had finally paid off. I was rounding third, and Santa was heading for home.
Try as I might, I was never able to stay awake for very long, although I gave it a gallant effort. Sleep would always eventually take over as I lay in bed with the most amazing visions of Christmas dancing about in my head.
Try as I may, my eyes would eventually close, though for just a second. Snapping back out of thought, I was sure that I heard something, or saw something as I looked out my window at the starry night. He would come, and if I just close my eyes for a second, maybe I could have tricked Him into thinking that I was asleep, then I could have surprised him and finally gotten to see him. that’s it, I would have just close my eyes for a second or two. Just a quick minute. I should have been able to see him in that wonderful magical sleigh with those reindeer and all of those presents. I was a year older, and I should have been able to finally get to see him. That’s it, I would just close my eyes for a ….