It was the sleep of the dead. I might as well have been in a sarcophagus. I woke up at 8 as I had a meeting at 9, got a call making sure I knew of the meeting and ended up not going. I was just so tired I went back to bed and woke up at noon to a winter wonderland, well not quite a wonderland but it is snowing. The snowflakes are huge and wet so I doubt the storm has much staying power. I was going to get my tree today, but I’ll wait for a drier day. I will do some decorating later and tonight some wrapping. It’s time for Christmas at my house.

When I was around three Santa came to our house. I remember peeking out at him from my parent’s bedroom. He was sitting on the couch waiting for me. I walked over, sat on his lap and told him what I wanted for Christmas. My brother, a year younger than I, was too afraid and never left the bedroom. I have a picture of me with Santa from that day. My face is filled with wonder, and I am staring open-mouthed at Santa right there in my own house.

When my nephew was young, I sent my sister a Christmas report card for him. It had all sorts of good little boy and good little girl behaviors like puts toys away, eats vegetables, listens, goes to bed when asked-all the stuff kids usually balk at doing. There was a column next to each behavior where a gold or black star was placed. On Christmas Eve, the report card was to be left under the tree for Santa so he would know how good a boy my nephew had been. Ryan, my nephew, took that card to heart. If he was bad, my sister would put up a black star, and Ryan would cry and swear to be good if she’d just take the star off. She usually gave him an ultimatum he had to follow if he wanted the star removed. He usually did and the black star was no more. Santa always had such power for goodness during Christmas.