Christmas has always been very special to me. As a child, on Christmas Eve, I'd sit on the front door perch at night and look at the stars. The brightest was the star of Bethlehem. Then dad would come outside and say: "If you don't go to bed right now, Santa won't come. He wants all the good children of the world to be asleep by the time he visits." And then , in a panic, I'd go inside and make sure mum's homemade biscuits and some milk were nicely placed next to the Christmas tree for Santa. And then I'd go to sleep. On Christmas Day, I got up early and rushed to the living room anxious to see if Santa had come. He had drunk the milk, eaten some of the biscuits and put his presents under the tree.
As an adult, I've always been under the spell of the magic at Christmas. I still look at the sky on Christmas Eve trying to guess which one of all the bright stars is the star of Bethlehem, the star of wonder. The star which led the three wise men to the humble manger where the King of Kings was born. I also look forward to shopping, partying, singing Christmas Carols and being lazy and self-indulgent.
Here are only a few of my most memorable Christmases.
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