What happens at my house at Christmas time.
|The Most Wonderful Day of the Year
Almost everyone has heard the song Silent Night. On Christmas day, my family is all but silent. There’s laughter, excitement, and constant joking.
Early on that brisk morning, my siblings and I trudge sleepily upstairs in our warm, cozy pajamas, and anticipation floods the entire house from the moment we catch the scent of my mom’s delicious blueberry muffins. Warm, buttery, blueberry goodness fills my mouth as I take a small bit of the muffin. Orange juice sets near so I reach out and take a sip of the tasty citrus drink. Soon it’s time to rip open the wrapping paper on our presents. Stockings lay in the living room, so I race to the living room and dig my hand into the felt that is filled with small gifts. “Oohs” and “Ahs” are heard as everyone opens their stockings to see what’s inside. I bound across the soft, warm carpet and leap into the oversized navy blue couch. The tree is to my right, and is covered with ornaments, lights, and garland. My anxious nieces bring everyone their red and green boxes that are being shaked as we guess what is hidden inside. We all take turns opening our presents and gawking at what everyone was given. When it’s all over, my nieces are always begging me to come back downstairs and play with their new toys. I usually give in. A bit later, we hurry and drive away to Grandma’s house.
Once we enter her lovely abode, I can smell the feast that is cooking. I catch a glimpse of my aunts, uncles, and cousins. Rushing over to greet my relatives, across the tan and dark brown linoleum floor, I can spot the food lying on the table. The glistening golden brown turkey, potatoes, green beans, ham, and many other great-looking foods lay there. Each member of my family grabs a plate, stacks up the tasty grub, and sits down at large tables. To my left is the fireplace where on the mantel is a collection of family pictures dating back to before I was even born.
Soon it’s time to advance downstairs for our gift exchange and to play games. Stepping down the carpeted blue stairs, I turn right to tread on the concrete, paint splattered floor. To my right, playing pool and ping-pong are my cousins. Cushioned chairs are surrounding the Christmas tree. On the stand sits the tree that is decorated with a plethora of colored lights and ornaments. Uncle Mike plays his guitar and sings Christmas songs, Grandma hands around the bible as we take turns reading the Christmas story. Then we begin passing the presents. My cousins surround me and are talking and laughing. Behind me is the plastic toy kitchen that my nieces love to play with, and under my feet is the shuffleboard grid painted on the floor. Ice cold soda goes psst as I open the aluminum can to take a sip. The cold, fizzy drink burns my mouth. We go back to playing pool and ping-pong at the tables on the North side of the basement. I hear my cousins all making fun of each other jokingly, and laughter fills the room. Mom comes over and says that we need to leave, and a pang of sadness hits me.
Christmas day is very special to me. A better song to match it would be The Most Wonderful Time of the Year, because of the great times we have at Christmas.