Growing up, Christmas was always a magical and joyous holiday for me. There was something enchanting about the mystery of Santa and the anticipation of the presents waiting for me on Christmas morning. The bright, colorful decorations that filled every room, the festive music drifting through my home, and the fun holiday activities all blended together to create a season overflowing with cheer. Christmas was a time to see my family, give thanks, and feel surrounded in warmth and excitement.
As a young girl, I felt incredibly blessed to experience such wonderful Christmas celebrations. I loved gathering with my family around the dinner table for a delicious holiday meal, surrounded by laughter and love. And of course, waking up to more presents than I ever imagined only added to the magic. My parents never failed to make all my Christmas wishes come true, and for that I am very grateful. Back then, everything about the season felt larger than life, a time full of wonder.
But as I grew older, the magic of Christmas began to shift. It was no longer centered on the mysteries of Santa or the thrill of gifts. Instead, the true magic became the time spent with those I love. Now, in my first year away at college, that realization has become even clearer. Being away from home for so long for the first time has shown me just how precious those moments with my family really are. The comfort of being home, the shared traditions, and the simple act of being together mean more to me now than any wrapped present ever could.
Coming home for the holidays now feels different, in the best possible way. I already felt such warmth when coming home for Thanksgiving, and I can’t wait to experience it all over again for Christmas. As soon as I think about walking through the front door, every decoration flashes through my mind, each one carrying a memory.Â
I picture the old nutcracker I used to play with, Clyde, our Christmas elf, hiding somewhere in our wonderfully overdecorated tree, and the train racing around its track through the bar room. These decorations used to seem like ordinary holiday objects, but now they feel like pieces of my childhood. They hold memories only my family and I share, moments that connect us no matter how far I go or how much I grow.
I find myself cherishing the little things around the holiday, such as watching Home Alone with my family, baking my grandmother’s Christmas cookies recipe, or going sledding down our small side yard hill which as a kid felt like a whole mountain. It wasn’t until recently in my life did I realize that this is the real Christmas magic. Growing up shows me the magic of Christmas isn’t something that we outgrow, but something that changes.Â
Christmas may feel different as the years pass, but in many ways, its magic becomes deeper. It transforms from childhood excitement into a heartfelt appreciation for family, gratitude, and the memories we continue to create. And that to me is the most beautiful kind of magic of all.