Christmas Eve Magic

As a kid, Christmas couldn’t come fast enough. My sister and I cut up green and red construction paper and made chains with 25 loops. Every day, starting Dec. 1, we would remove a loop. I would study the remaining paper circles and the chains seemed unchanged. Dec. 25 was so very, very far away and the paper chains were so very, very long. 

As an adult, Christmas can’t seem to take its time arriving. Dec. 25 comes in a flash and leaves in a whirlwind blur. 

Despite the change in pace,  I love this holiday. My favorite day; however, is Dec. 24. Christmas Eve is the best. There is a lot of magic on the day before the big holiday. 

My family has a whole set of practices for Christmas Eve. For instance, my folks come over to my house for dinner. I’ve cooked some real duds (Martha Stewart’s chicken) and some triumphs (Julia Child’s beef bourguignon). 

My niece and my nephews set up farolitos at my parents’ house. They grab the lighters, eager to show off their pyrotechnic skills, and light the small candles in brown paper bags. We all climb into various cars and make our way to North Mesa. There, we dim headlights and creep through dark neighborhood roads to view long, winding rows of glowing farolitos. Back at my folk’s house, we feast on desserts. 

In childhood, the greatest part of Christmas Eve was obviously nighttime. That was when the unseen magic occurred. Santa came down the chimney and reindeer stood on the roof. Adulthood completely spoils the story of Santa Claus but the wonderment of that particular night of the year endures. 

A favorite childhood story of mine is The Polar Express. In the story, a little boy and his sister ride a train to the North Pole. As the first gift of Christmas, Santa gives the boy one of the jingle bells from the reindeers’ harnesses  because the boy loves the sound the bells make. The story concludes with the boy, now an adult, still relishing the bell’s sweet sound even though he is only one who can still hear it. He can still hear the sound because he truly believed.

That’s my hope for myself, for my family and anyone reading this- that the bell’s sound never falls silent to us. May we all always believe in the magic of Christmas.