The magic of Christmas is in the air, crisp pitter patter across crunchy snow captured in tiny white lights, sparkling messengers of hope peeking out of garlands and over tree branches.
I sit and sigh, knowing, once again, why I adore this holiday so. Mysteriously, Christmas stirs the part of my soul that always stays young, a child who never grows up. I’m sure she exists, at Christmas time! The knobby-kneed girl who gazes up at the Christmas tree in wonder.
This holiday transports me to a time long before those impressionable years of youth descended, a time when I believed…in the magic of Christmas…
in the realness of Santa…
in tiny wooden soldiers commanding toys while ballerinas swirl across wooden floors. Mystical moments when snowmen led parades of giggling girls and boys, and Rudolph’s cherry-red nose lit the path for Santa’s present-laden sleigh. READ THE ENTIRE POST…
