I awoke early that morning, with a gentle voice in my ear. "John, wake; up it's Christmas Eve," my mom said, "time to finish wrapping the presents." I jumped from my bed as soon as the words had left her mouth. It was Christmas Eve 1993, and I was five years old. This would be the last Christmas in our cozy little house on Herschel St. I was excited beyond belief, but nothing could prepare me for the greatest Christmas ever. I still can not decide on my favorite part, whether it was the mounds of presents, the bountiful stockings, family all around, or maybe when Santa Claus stopped by to see if I had been naughty or nice.
As I rushed to the living room, I was greeted by my grandma, Mama Kay. She was stacking my presents under the tree. My mom followed, and we began wrapping presents for everyone, well, everyone except me. I could not even sneak a peek, and, believe me, I tried. The night before, I had set my alarm for early in the morning. I was planning on sneaking out and catching a quick glimpse; however, I was met by my dad just as I found a few boxes with my name on them. I had come to accept my fate; I must wait till that magical morning. Little did I know, however, that I would be allowed to open just one present that very night. As we finished the wrapping, my dad started a fire in the fireplace, and my mom made a huge breakfast. It was over ten years ago, but I still believe it was the best breakfast she has ever made. After breakfast, we all sat around the fire for what seemed like forever. Finally, they decided it was time to start dinner and left me to watch Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.
When we finished dinner, they told me to come sit in the living room. No sooner had I sat, when there came a rapping at the door. They said it was for me, so, with a little confusion, I walked towards the door to open it. About half way there, I spotted a red and white coat through the blinds and instantly knew who it was. I slung the door open,...
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