Everyone has their own preferences about Christmas. Whether it is Gene Autry singing Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer on the radio, Bing Cosby in White Christmas on TV, or shopping for the right present for Aunt Agatha, it holds a special meaning to you. For me, it’s not Christmas until Ralphy gets his Red Rider BB gun.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, and no matter how old I get on the outside, when Christmas rolls around, I become a little boy again anxiously awaiting the big man’s arrival. Decorating the tree, setting up the train and miniature village, and reveling in the tantalizing aromas coming from the kitchen bring back lots of fond memories of Christmas’ past.
This year, he came a bit early. My girlfriend, who lives out of state, sent me a big box full of goodies. As that little boy, I find myself shaking and examining those carefully wrapped presents to find out what is inside. I think one is shirts, which is good, because she has great taste in clothes. She has me baffled on the rest. She knows how I am and has become very crafty in wrapping them.
She, on the other hand is extremely difficult to buy for. “I have everything I want,” she tells me. As she will be reading this blog, I’m not going to tell you what I sent her, but I know it is something she doesn’t have and will love. The only clue I will give is, I made it myself. What are some of your favorite memories? While you reminisce, here's a blurb about A Present for Santa.
Merry Christmas everyone!