Growing Up I Never Actually Believed in Santa Claus

Emily Anderson, Staff Writer

Growing up I never actually believed in Santa Claus. Because of my family Christmas tradition I’ve always known it was my parents who got me my Christmas gifts. The wonder and joy that comes from the holiday season wasn’t lost though; in actuality this holiday ritual made me appreciate my family and Christmas even more. When December rolls around, my mom starts shopping for those cute and cozy Christmas pajamas for the whole family to wear. The tree is put up and decorated with all types of lights and ornaments including the cherished family one that depicts everyone as reindeer.

Finally Christmas Eve comes and everyone gathers by the tree with all of us dressed up in our matching pajamas. This is when the festivities start. There is a marathon of holiday movies featuring the classics such as How the Grinch Stole Christmas and Elf. Hoping everyone is still awake by the end that’s when the board games come out. It’s late into the night by now and all of us are gathered on the living floor in a heated game of Uno. By the fifth game we decide to call it quits and spend the rest of our time making jokes and telling old stories.

Everyone is in a good mood and it’s one of the happiest moments we spend together as a family. The Christmas tree blankets the room in warm lighting, creating a wholesome atmosphere the only comes with the holiday season. By this time the whole family is sleepy and almost ready to go to bed, but then the clock strikes 12:00.

Christmas day is here and my mom promptly starts handing out our gifts. Sleepiness is long gone, now replaced by excitement. Wrapping paper gathers on the floor creating an illusion of colorful snow that covers the living room floor. I thank my mom and the rest of my family for all the wonderful gifts and cherish the night one last time before we all part ways into our bedrooms. Letting the sleepiness take over I quickly fall asleep thankful for another happy Christmas.