Is there ever the same wonder and mystery to Christmas as when you are a small child. Everything is so real to you, the spirit of Christmas, angels hover all around, excited at the memory of the baby Jesus and silently lending their voices as we practice the Christmas hymns. Heaven and earth seem to move closer to one another in our minds. Going to the local school to watch the older children in Christmas plays and concerts and as small children we would never dream that the whole adult world is in on a secret about the north pole that will reveal itself to us as we get older.
The longest hours ever for a small child to wait through, belong to the night before Christmas. I remember feeling like Christmas Eve service would take forever, I had a bit of guilt about that but I was sure God would understand. When we would get home there was no problem getting us to bed, we understood that the sooner we went to sleep, the sooner Santa would come. We also knew he would get easily spooked if he thought we were awake and might not come so sleep we must. The trouble was sleep always took a holiday on Christmas Eve.
I think there is always a little of that small child in a lot of us at Christmas. I don’t think there is ever another wondrous time for us like that again, I believe that is why people try to hold onto those feelings, often by recreating it for their children and grandchildren. I still have a few things Santa brought me. Throwing them away would be throwing my child hood away, my memories away. I hope this Christmas morning, upon first opening your eyes, that again you will have that innocent wonder of a small child.