I remember my mother cutting strips of green and red construction paper with a pair of orange handled scissors. She bent them to make loops and secured each loop with scotch tape. Each loop was secured within another loop, creating a construction paper linked chain. Twenty four loops hung from the wall. On December 1st my mother had me tear off the first loop. Each night I tore off a loop, until the final solitary loop hung on the wall. It was Christmas Eve and tonight Santa was coming.
Bing Crosby records spun on the turntable while we strategically placed ornaments on the tree. My Father would water the tree. My Mother would vacuum up the fallen pine needles. The world was a magical place in this time of innocence.
Today I feel fortunate to relive these memories through the eyes of my children. I hope they hear the sleigh bells when the reindeer fly past their bedroom window. The magic is real. It comes from inside of us. I miss that feeling.