There's something so inherently magical about Christmas Eve that I still feel as a grown woman. It's one of the only nights of the year in which the neighborhood is veiled in silence, as if in shared contemplation of the magic that is about to take place. The Christmas rush is over and all that's left to do is relax and relish in the age old fairy tale that we have weaved. A little part of me still wants to take out two carrots and two cookies for Santa and his reindeer. Even when I became old enough to realise the truth, finding cookie crumbs on the saucer and teeth marks indented into the carrots was always such a thrill. Christmas morning always smells like fresh summer air, feels like a gentle breeze and the kiss of sunlight on bare arms. Time seems to halt and we're left to just be: to enjoy the simple things such as good food and good company.
I hope that wherever you are, your Christmas story this year is a good one.