I think it's been 4 years since I've been able to really get into the Christmas spirit. It's a little sad because my imagination was usually great at taking me to this wonderful, magical place.
So I'm left to think back on those days when Christmas was so inspiring; where writing letters to Santa and opening presents was exciting.
I loved believing in Santa Claus. My sister and I had an extra special Santa. You see our Santa left us a gift on several random nights before Christmas Eve. I never stopped to think of how this didn't fit into the 'real' story of Santa. Instead we'd wake up in anticipation to see if a gift would be lying by our feet. And when we'd find presents we would be so excited and go put them underneath the tree but not before shaking them up and guessing what they could be. Meanwhile, our Santa would listen to our chatter while smiling, satisfied with the look on our face. Santa was very good at keeping 'himself' a secret because although I always tried to spy, staying awake to see if I'd catch a glimpse, I never saw him and I had several nights to work with here!!! :) I think my sister might have figured things out but she never told me and although I sensed she knew something, I never asked. I wanted to believe in something bigger than myself. I guess as kids we knew the importance of believing and taking things as is, instead of what we do too much of now, overanalyzing things to death. This is where magic can get lost.
Now my favorite part of Christmas is writing out my Christmas cards. I love the opportunity to reconnect with all the special people in my life. My childhood nights of presents from Santa are now replaced by my cards from friends. They make me happy just the same. I guess magic comes from a different source as adults and now Santa Claus is someone you'd want to be with underneath the mistletoe.