I am often the only person in a collection of friends who is genuinely happy that Christmas is heading toward us, at full-speed. \u00a0I have loved every aspect of the holidays since childhood. \u00a0Is it because I grew up in a healthy, happy family? \u00a0Not really. \u00a0But we did seem to rise above the tension, the chaos and cutting criticism for most of the month of December. \u00a0Mom made candy, lots of it, which my dad loved. \u00a0And together we all put up the tree. \u00a0The tree trimming night we got to eat the first of the fudge she had made. \u00a0The house smelled good and the lights were plentiful. \u00a0We even had candles for the windows. \u00a0At a glance, you’d never know that our house wasn’t full of warm, fuzzy feelings every day.<\/p>\n
We were not a wealthy family, not by any means, but my dad was always employed so there was always food on the table and clean clothes in the closets. \u00a0We were encouraged to write letters to Santa and “Santa” generally placed under the tree at least one or two of the longed for gifts on our list. \u00a0I was sure Santa had read every letter sent to him. \u00a0And in my home town of Lafayette, Indiana, the newspaper occasionally had an article about all the letters Santa was getting. \u00a0That convinced me he was real.<\/p>\n
How he got around to all the houses was a huge mystery to me, one my oldest sister loved to whisper about when my folks tucked us in on Christmas eve. \u00a0Since she “knew the truth already,” she was put in charge of keeping the secret and my two siblings and I upstairs until mom and dad had played their Santa game.<\/p>\n
I’ll never forget the Christmas my brother and I were hell-bent on sneaking downstairs to peek. \u00a0Jo Ann convinced us she could hear the reindeer hoofs on the rook so we’d better stay in bed. \u00a0She said if Santa heard us on the stairs, he’d leave and there would be no gifts at all. \u00a0We bought her story, hook, line and sinker. \u00a0And we even heard the reindeer too. \u00a0We were sure of it.<\/p>\n
I treasure recalling old memories. \u00a0I’ve discovered their value too when we are feeling a bit blue about some circumstance in our life. \u00a0The fond memory proves \u00a0 that troubles don’t always abound. \u00a0They prove, too, that as long as we can change our mind, we can change our life. \u00a0Exchanging a bad experience with a good memory is the key to living the life you deserve.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I am often the only person in a collection of friends who is genuinely happy that Christmas is heading toward us, at full-speed. \u00a0I have loved every aspect of the holidays since childhood. \u00a0Is it because I grew up in a healthy, happy family? \u00a0Not really. \u00a0But we did seem to rise above the tension, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[4,15],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3187","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-circle-of-family-and-friends-you-and-your-personal-community","category-your-experience-strength-and-hope"],"yoast_head":"\n