A Christmas Story

As I mentioned I decided to let Mommy have a little blog time of her own, don't worry just once this week and once next week on New Year's Eve. Hope you enjoy this human Christmas story.

I remember laying snuggled in bed at my Grandmother’s house, clutched in my hand was my beloved Lamby-Pie, a stuffed animal of a black faced lamb. Lamby-Pie was made of soft white lamb's wool, at least Lamby had been white, when I was originally given him but he had turned into a shade of well-loved beige over the years. I unconsciously rubbed his paw gently against my cheek as I waited, waited for the sound I knew would soon come.

It was Christmas morning and I was still very sleepy from staying up too late to open my “Non-Santa” presents on Christmas Eve. I loved Christmas Eve with all our family, and the presents of course, but I always loved Christmas morning more, because it's when my favorite present would come.

I was beginning to drift off to sleep again when it came, the sound of coffee beans being ground in the kitchen. It was the sound of my Grandmother starting her day. I couldn't wait any longer. I pulled back the covers and slipped into my new slippers and robe, because it was cold upstairs, not like my house far away in sunny California. I walked down the stairs quietly, careful not to step on any of the creaky spots, because I didn’t want to wake anyone else.

The windows were frosted over at the edges and outside there was a new snowfall, something I rarely saw. It was so beautiful that I had to stop and look. The snow twinkled in the early morning light like diamonds on a white blanket, but I didn’t want to spend too much time looking - not with my present waiting for me.

“Hello sweetheart, Merry Christmas! Come and give me a big hug.” My Grandmother called to me as I entered the kitchen.

I was held by my grandmother’s warm embrace. I could smell coffee and the special almond soap my grandmother used. I breathed it in… a smell I loved with all my heart, and still do. I held tightly to my beloved grandmother and before I fully let her go I squeezed her hard one more time.

“That was a big hug for a small girl!” My grandmother said as she pulled a small beautiful box, wrapped in shiny silver paper and white velvet ribbon, from her robe pocket. “Look, I found this under the tree. I think Santa left it for you. Why don’t you take it to the table while I make our special breakfast?”

I sat down and watched as my grandmother prepared our special breakfast of oatmeal with brown sugar. I forgot the beautiful package, still clutched in my hands, as we spoke, because it was this moment I'd waited all year for - it was the pink satin of my grandmother’s robe, not the red velvet of Santa’s which kept me up all morning. It was this special time, before the rest of the world woke up, when I had my grandmother all to myself that I looked forward to each year. It is these moments I will remember, for the rest of my life, as my favorite Christmas presents.

Meg S. Hart (Mommy's Possible Pen Name).