Christmas...

Think of your childhood Christmas memories. Was it about the delicious food? Or maybe Aunt Mildred’s annual visit, marked by eye-popping hugs and ‘fruit’ cake that really had more alcohol than fruit in it? I don’t condone drinking and driving, but I confess, I always had a penchant for Aunt Mildred’s fruitcake!

Chances are, Christmas was about so much more than food and family when you were small. I’d wager it was about hearing the clock tick through the house as you lay in bed and pinched your eyes closed, knowing full well that I never deliver presents to homes where children (naughty or nice) aren’t really sleeping. As you willed yourself to sleep, I suspect your mind whirled with the contents of your Christmas wish list – which of your heart’s desires would the elves have loaded onto my sleigh for you this year? Did your letter even reach my workshop at the North Pole on time?

I’ve been in this business a long, long time, and I doubt your excitement-induced sleep lasted much beyond the dawn, as you jumped out of bed and ran for the Christmas tree with eager anticipation…

Now, think of your adult Christmas memories. I’m sure they are nice too but do they have that same magic of believing in Santa? Only you will know, but for most adults, the only real magic at Christmas is in the contents of Aunt Mildred’s confections. Unless you can re-experience the magic of Christmas through the eyes and heart of a child…

THAT is why I have not retired after all these years. You see, the magic is not really in me, or even my Grotto where the elves manufacture toys with love all year around. No, the true magic of Christmas is in the hearts of children.