Sleeping on Christmas Eve was the hardest thing. I'd wake up every fifteen minutes and glance at the clock. I remember one year, my mom told me I couldn't come down to see my presents until I cleaned my room. My brother slept in my room (as per tradition) and helped me clean up fifteen minutes before we were allowed downstairs. (Which really consisted of us throwing toys into the window bench.) We'd always wake up early Christmas Day. Mom wouldn't let us see our presents until 5:00 in the morning. We'd hurry down the stairs and run to the family room where all our presents were waiting for us. Only us kids would be awake, until mom and dad would finally show up. Dad would turn on The Beach Boys Christmas album and pull out the camera. We'd spend hours in the family room playing with our toys. Mom would cook us a delicious breakfast. We'd then open our presents from under the tree to top of the morning. We'd play the rest of the day and feast on leftover treats and cheese ball. (I can't even tell you how delicious that cheese ball is!) My parents always made Christmas special for our family. Now that I'm older, I've realized that even though our Christmases were memorable, they never once forgot to remind us of our Savior. It is because of Him that I am able to feel and taste the sweet joy that He has to offer. It's because of Him that I am able to be with my family for eternity! I love Him.
No comments:
Post a Comment