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the special day

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the special day
Christmas produces many of my favorite, cherished memories. Christmas smells, like gingerbread, peppermint, bayberry, simmering pots with orange peels with cloves and nutmeg make the season come alive. We didn't bake a lot, but we always made fruitcake - not the traditional fruitcake. I dad's mom used to make a moist spice cake and added chopped gumdrops, figs, and dates. It was the moistest cake I have ever had.

I remember I was one of those kids who could never sleep well Christmas Eve. I kept a flashlight in my bed with me, and usually around 2:00 or 2:30 in the morning I'd wake up and sneak out to the tree and look at all the presents Santa brought, and of course the Christmas stockings were full with fruit and treats. I knew I couldn't touch anything until mom and dad got up or I would get in trouble. :-) They usually relented and got up around 5:30 or 6:00 so I wouldn't have to suffer too long. LOL

I still love Christmas Eve more than Christmas Day. Little did I know as a kid, the anticipation actually made the night magical.

Also, I remember throughout the holiday season my dad and I would lie on the floor with our heads under the Christmas tree just smelling the pine. We'd do it at night when the lights were out and only Christmas bulbs and other decorations sparkled. The thin strands of silver tinsel reflected the colorful lights and made them dance even more.

I can remember gathering to read the story of the Jesus' birth from the Bible and eating fruitcake and eggnog on Christmas Eve. Before we did that, we'd go out in the car and look at Christmas lights around town. We'd sing Christmas carols and laugh when we forgot the lyrics. Then it was home for reading, fruitcake, and egg nog.

My little brother is 9 years younger than me, and I remember when he first understood and remembered Christmas. He was 3. He kind of got it at two, knowing you had to be asleep for Santa to come, but by age 3 he was excited. As he got older, I would go in with him to his bunk bed on Christmas Eve, and I'd read children's Christmas Books to him until he fell asleep.

He'd always say, "oh, Cindy I can't sleep. I'm too excited!" Then a short while later he was zonked .

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