As I've gotten older, I've come to realize my mom was the true magic of Christmas.
She was the heart and soul of every holiday season during my childhood, creating an atmosphere filled with warmth, joy, and enchantment. Every December, she transformed our home from top to bottom into a whimsical holiday wonderland. With a twinkle in her eye and love in her heart, she waved her magic wand, spreading Christmas magic to every corner of our home—from the festive decorations to the delicious food, to the beloved Christmas tunes playing on the stereo, filling every room with cheer.
Throughout the house, tables and cabinets displayed miniature Christmas villages and figurines, all aglow with holiday spirit. The delicate lights of the tree twinkled in the front room, casting a soft glow across the walls and floor. A warm fire crackled in the fireplace as the stockings hung empty above, waiting to be filled with treats from Santa Claus. Delicious aromas wafted from the kitchen, inviting us to a beautiful dinner table, decorated with glowing candles and special Christmas plates that were only brought out this time of year.
Afterward, with hot cocoas in hand, we gathered around the television to watch our favorite Scrooge movie (the one starring George C. Scott). Then, when the evening drew to a close, my brother, sister, and I would head to bed, bursting with excitement for the big guy to finally make his appearance. We’d lie awake for what seemed like hours, listening for reindeer hooves on the roof and wondering if Santa had been able to get to every house in time.
As dawn broke Christmas morning, we jumped out of bed in anticipation, eager to see what was left under the tree. We’d wake Mom and Dad, asking them to lead the way to the gifts awaiting us downstairs. My Mom smiled from ear-to-ear as she watched us unwrap our presents, and the room would fill with ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as we reveled in our new treasures.
Christmas in our home was a wondrous time, because my Mom made it so. The joy and wonder we experienced – it happened because of her. She was the true magic behind it all. It was a special time of year we always looked forward to, and it is not lost on me how fortunate I was to have this experience; to have a loving mom who wanted the best for her children, who created lasting, holiday memories for her family. Her attention to every detail, her thoughtful touches, and the traditions she passed down made Christmas something to be cherished.
Now, as I celebrate the holidays without her, I find myself missing her more than ever. Her absence is felt deeply, especially during the season she made so special. While I can no longer share new holiday experiences with her, I strive to carry her beautiful spirit and the feelings of comfort and wonder she created into my home. This is my way of making sure she is always with us, of spreading her traditions and keeping her love alive, so that someday my son may do the same for his family.
I am forever grateful to my mom for giving me these magical Christmas memories that I will carry with me always. I hope in some way she can feel that gratitude, and I hope in some way she knows what a beautiful, lasting impact she made—and continues to make—on my life and on those around me. Her legacy of love, joy, and giving will live on in our hearts forever.
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