My eyes flutter open as the cold morning air began to hit my skin.

For a moment, the world was

still and peaceful. A smile crept onto my face as I nuzzled into my warm covers. Then, all at
once, the covers went flying as two unmistakably small reindeer socks went sliding down the
hall.

“Mom, Dad, wake up it’s Christmas! Come on! ”

My parents groggily swatted at me as I pounced onto their bed. I tugged, pulled, and whined
until they finally got up and started walking towards the living room. Once again, I went sliding
down the hall, checking to make sure my parents were right behind me. A ginormous smile
placed itself on my face and my feet could not stop moving. Approaching the living room, my
eyes sparkled with joy as I took in the wonderland. The starlike lights nestled into the tree, gave
the room a warm glow. Colors bounced in every direction as ornaments delicately dangled and
gifts sat perfectly arranged.

“Mom come on! Hurry up and sit down, I want to open presents!”

The night before, I had carefully placed cookies on the table in an easy to reach spot for one
important man. There was now a pile of crumbs as I plopped down onto the floor and
instinctively reached for the gift I knew was from Santa. Holding the box, the excitement and
curiosity crept up as I wondered what he got me this year. I never told him, yet he got it right
every year. That was the magic that had kept me up on every Christmas eve. How did he do it?
He knows exactly what I wished for and somehow got into our house undetected to deliver it.
That year I wished for a light pink nintendo DS that had just come onto the market. I focused on
the box and shakily began to untie the bow. Had he done it again?

As I kept looking at the box, the tag caught my eye. ‘To Misha. From Santa’ it read in pretty,
swirly letters. My heart sunk as I began to think about how much I love my mom’s pretty, swirly
handwriting. My mom caught the look on my face.

“Santa needed some help from me this year. He was very busy, so he asked me to write the tag
for him.” she said.
“Oh okay. Well that makes sense…. I guess.”

I looked up from the gift and took another glance around the room. Memories from past
Christmases touched every crumb and crevice. The taped together angel topper that I
accidentally dropped because I insisted on putting it up. My proudly hung ‘not so delicately
crafted’ popsicle ornaments. The gifts neatly arranged on the tree skirt that had gained a new
stain from my hot chocolate accident because I got so excited one year. I smiled thinking of the
moments that had touched each of our holidays. The mysterious Christmas magic may have
shedded away but underneath I had found a new magic in our family’s Christmases.

A new steadiness came to my hands as I unwrapped the gift and found the DS that I had
wanted all year. Overjoyed that I had gotten what I wished for, ‘thank you’ spilled out as I
hugged my parents. The gift was tight in my arms as I bounced around excitedly once again on
Christmas day. The tree lights and ornaments twinkled a little bit brighter that day. I began to
appreciate and recognize the effort that my parents had put into make every Christmas as
wonder filled as the last. And although I had begun to question whether the cliche Christmas
magic was real, I had come to find out that the real magic in christmas was the family that you
spent it with.