Dec. 15th, 2010

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When I was five, we lived in Delaware. My bedroom was upstairs, and my parents kept the door to the downstairs locked because I had a tendency to get up at night and wander around on my own. On Christmas eve that night, I woke up to the sound of sleighbells ringing outside the house. I couldn't see outside because it was so cold that the windows had frosted over. I remember trying to squint through the frosted glass to see if I could see Rudolph's nose glowing, but I couldn't see anything. I have no doubt that I did hear sleighbells, though, and for a long time that really fed my belief in Santa (longer than was normal, probably.)

Another Christmas that was really special was one year when we got up in the morning and Santa had decorated the tree with licorice and gumdrops. It was so cool! And, there was also an electric train going around tree that hadn't been there the night before.

My parents worked really hard to make sure that we always had an amazing Christmas. I didn't appreciate what a sacrifice this must of have been for them, because even though I know they really struggled to make ends meet, I never felt that at Christmas time.They wouldn't put the gifts out until we went to bed, so it always seemed like there had been a gift explosion sometime in the middle of the night. Given that there were six kids in my family, the amount of gifts under the tree would sometimes take up a large part of the room.


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April 2011

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