This is Christmas Eve. It’s a special day. You can almost feel it. The sense of anticipation, the magic. The sense of knowing something is about to happen.

You can feel it in the air, see it on the faces of children as they visit Santa. You can sense it in the softly lit decorations placed in strategic places in restaurants, storefront windows, in our homes, and yes, in the images we see on line.

You can almost feel the hope, the sense that something miraculous could actually happen. That sense of a peaceful quiet that ushers in something incredibly beautiful…something more special than you’ve ever experienced before.

You can hear it in a favorite Christmas song, the words penetrating your heart and your spirit, bringing a tear to your eye as you realize you truly do believe in Christmas miracles. And you know that one is coming for either you or someone you love. You don’t know what, or how, but you believe it’s coming.

After all, it’s Christmas Eve.

Because on that very first Christmas something miraculous did indeed happen. The world received the gift of salvation, hope, and everlasting love. In the form of a tiny baby.

So take heart. And be of good cheer, as the angels said to the shepherds a little over 2,000 years ago. Because there are still Christmas miracles to come this year.

They come in many forms. A kind or loving word from a stranger to someone who’s hurting. A surprise phone call from a loved one far away. A stranger unexpectedly buying your coffee as you struggle to find your wallet at the checkout register An anonymous gift left on your doorstep, or in your mailbox, and it’s something you really needed.

Or you may be the one who causes a Christmas miracle without even realizing it. A smile to someone in a store who feels totally lost and alone. A “thank you” to someone who isn’t expecting it. Holding a door open for a young mother struggling with a baby stroller and arms full of packages. Giving a gift to a stranger from an angel tree or Christmas shoebox sent overseas.

Yes, miracles still abound, and it seems we’re more aware of them at the Christmas season than at any other time of year, because we need them more at this season than at any other time. It’s the season of love…and loneliness. The season of giving…and sadness because you think you have nothing to give. It’s the season of hope…and wondering when you’ll ever have any again.

But somewhere out there your miracle is coming. In a way you least expect and may not even recognize, even when it happens.

The magic of Christmas is also the miracle of Christmas. It’s not the gifts, or lack of gifts, under the tree. It’s how you feel in your heart, how your feelings toward others suddenly change, and how you see the world around you in a new way, even if only for a few days.

Let’s all enjoy the magic…and the miracle…of Christmas this year. And let’s share it with as many people as possible.

A smile. A kind word. A loving gesture. A handwritten note to say “I love you.” A prayer for those who are hurting.

The miracle of Christmas is within each of us, if we only let it come forth.

It’s Christmas Eve. And it’s time…..

You know, it’s not easy being me. It truly isn’t. Like a lot of you out there, I’ve always got too much to do, and not enough time to do it.

You see, there are a lot of children out there in this world. And it’s my job to make them happy on Christmas Day. That is, if they believe, and if their parents cooperate. More about that later.

Throughout so many decades past, I’ve delighted the kids who believe in me with gifts under their Christmas tree every Christmas morning. Sometimes they’re beautifully wrapped, and sometimes they’re not. Their parents tell me what they want, you know.

All year long I’m working behind the scenes at the North Pole, putting together lists for each child that believes in me, and collecting all the toys that each kid wants. The elves very seldom make them anymore; they’re just too complicated. Instead they go to the stores, the factories, and the warehouses to fill the orders.

That’s not an easy task either. Plus, we have to have huge warehouses to store them, with each child having his or her own compartment for their gifts. Can’t have them confused, you know; that would really upset the kids!

Even working hard all year to make just that one night special doesn’t mean we don’t get rushed. Right now things have really heated up, and we’re working almost 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. We’ll sleep on Christmas Day, after everything is delivered.

The reindeer are getting ready, too, exercising to make sure they’re in great shape to pull that sleigh. It’s not easy, you know, because with all those toys, and me, well, it’s quite heavy to start out with.

Now I’m asked a lot of times about how in the world all those toys for all the world’s children, can possibly fit in one sleigh. It’s big, but not that big, you know. It’s really quite easy, but unfortunately I can’t tell you. You see, Santa has to have a few secrets that no one knows about, and that’s one of them. Most of the elves know; they have to, because they pack up the sleigh. But every year we have a few new ones, and until I can totally trust them with such a huge secret, they do other jobs rather than packing my sleigh.

I’m also asked a lot about how the reindeer are actually able to fly through the sky, let alone pull a heavy sleigh behind them. That’s one of those secrets I keep to myself as well. I will say this, they are very special reindeer, specially trained, and very trustworthy.

I’m also asked a lot how I can be in so many places at the same time. At the malls, department stores, in Christmas parades…in all honesty, I’m really not. Not personally anyway. But each and every one of those Santas carry a little piece of me with them. A piece of my heart, and a piece of my love for each and every one of the children who believe in me. And all of those pieces come back to me and settle into my heart as the children tell Santa their secrets and their Christmas wishes. But please don’t tell the kids. That’s between us.

Some of the children are really concerned that I can’t get in their house to deliver their toys because they don’t have a fireplace for me to come down. Actually that’s one of the easier problems to solve. Because Santa has a very special key, made just for me, that will unlock any door. But only on Christmas Eve; no other time of year. And it only works in Santa’s hand, so if it were to ever get lost, no one else could use it.

Those cookies and milk are certainly appreciated, too. I have a hard job that night, and although it’s a lot of fun, it certainly works up the appetite! And my favorites are butter cookies with sprinkles, chocolate chip, and some of those fluffy meringue cookies with chocolate chips. And a bit of egg nog here and there would be good in the place of milk. You know, just varying the selection a bit. Just don’t leave a slice of fruitcake! The reindeer don’t even like that!

And those letters the children send me? Yes, I read them. Fortunately I’m a speed reader, so it’s not as hard as you might think. And I’m probably the world’s best multitasker, because I not only read them as I’m doing other things, I dictate my responses as well, and the elves handle the rest.

The Naughty or Nice List? Yes, I do have those. Unfortunately. But just so you’ll know, in order to not get at least one gift from ol’ Santa, you have to be really, really naughty. You see, I love kids so much, I never want any of them to go without gifts from me at Christmas time. I always try to find something they’ve done right enough to be able to qualify for a gift!!

And by the way…that Elf on the Shelf? He’s NOT one of mine. Not at all. I don’t know where he came from or why he’s trying to horn in on my territory, but he really needs to stop. Santa doesn’t participate in that one, and he’s certainly never reported back to me! I think he’s around just to cause a bit of disruption and to irritate me!

Which leads me to my comment concerning parents cooperating with me. This is a tough one. And it really hurts my feelings.

You see, there are parents out there who refuse to tell their kids about me. Or they tell them I don’t exist. That I’m just made up, and that every kid who believes in me, is just totally wrong and should be set straight as soon as possible. There are even adults out there who aren’t parents who spread those same words and thoughts around without even thinking about it. Without even stopping to think what they’re doing…what they’re destroying.

And those children don’t get the pleasure of Santa delivering gifts on Christmas Eve because I’m not welcome in their homes. And I don’t go where I’m not welcome.

Just because you don’t see the real me doesn’t mean I don’t exist. I’ve been around for a long time, doing the things I do for a long time, and making millions of children happy every year. The smiles on their faces and their screams of surprise and delight make it worthwhile. And as I said, their parents do help, because I couldn’t possibly do it all on my own. They are an important part of the magic of Santa Claus at Christmas time.

Those who say Santa isn’t real don’t understand the reality of Santa. They don’t understand I live in the hearts and imagination of children, who pass on the mystery and the wonder of Santa to their own children. And that causes me to continue to live on and on.

Others say I keep kids from focusing on the real meaning of Christmas, so they won’t let their children believe about me. Rubbish!! Let me say this. Over half of the homes I deliver toys to have a nativity scene in their homes, or ornaments on their tree depicting that first Christmas. Obviously they know the real story of Christmas. And they still let me in.

As I said in the beginning, it’s not easy being me. It’s a lot of work, and a lot of late nights. But the happiness I bring every Christmas Eve, the smiles I see on so many faces on Christmas morning (yes, I do see them, you know – just don’t asked me to explain how) make it all worthwhile.

You still don’t believe I’m real? All I can say to that is, I’m really sorry. Because you’re missing out on so very much….

And now….back to work! Christmas Eve is almost here!

I was reviewing my “to do” list today; you know, the one with all the items on it that still need doing with Christmas less than two weeks away….

At this rate I probably won’t be ready for this Christmas until next year.

How in the world did it all get so complicated? So rushed? So last minute?

When I was younger Christmas seemed to take forever to arrive. I don’t remember taking weeks to shop, weeks to decorate. Making batches and batches of all kinds of cookies to give away as gifts and take to work. Buying an angel tree gift. Putting change in the Salvation Army kettle. Making sure you have all the latest gadgets and goodies for the kids and grandkids. Spending a fortune on Santa photos at the mall. Going to craft shows and open houses and concerts…. Oh, and then there are those gifts still to wrap…thank goodness for gift bags!

No wonder we feel rushed. And stressed. And exhausted.

And wonder why we just don’t seem to enjoy the Christmas season the way we used to. Why it seems like more of a hassle than anything else.

Maybe that’s how we’re making it these days. We’re so busy trying to put together a perfect holiday, a perfectly decorated home, and perfectly wrapped perfect gifts, we forget to stop and just enjoy the beauty of the season.

We stop looking at it through the eyes of a child, who sees nothing but wonder and amazement and excitement with all the festivities. Who can’t wait to visit Santa Claus and tell him what he or she wants for Christmas. Who counts the days, and sometimes the hours until the magic happens on Christmas morning.

While we’re too busy thinking how glad we are that it’s almost over, and we can get back to life as it normally is.

When I was growing up we didn’t spend days and days shopping for gifts. We didn’t spend a fortune on wrapping paper and gift bags (which in my case didn’t even exist at the time).

We didn’t spend days or weeks decorating the house. We only had one tree in my mother’s house; now I have six. And ask myself “why?” every year. We very seldom decorated with outside lights, and if we did there were just a few. Now neighbors sometimes spend weeks putting up their outside decorations, trying to outdo their neighbors, or see just how many lights and inflatables they can put in their front yards. (And don’t those inflatables look awful in the daylight when they’re deflated?)

Santa photos were taken with our own cameras, and we had to wait a week or so to get them developed, and then hope they turned out. When the Polaroid cameras came out we were thrilled to leave Santa’s chair with a picture in our hands to put by our beds to remember that special time!

We didn’t rush out to start our Christmas shopping as soon as Thanksgiving dinner was over to make sure we got a head start on the sales. Or spend the cold night in a line outside an electronics store just to be one of the first to get the best deals when the store opened the next morning.

Our Christmas stockings were filled with fruit, candy, candy canes, crayons…inexpensive items we used every day and really appreciated. Santa didn’t fill our living room with gifts; we got maybe 7-8 presents (if that) and thought we were blessed beyond measure. And we appreciated each and every one of those gifts, taking our time to open them to make the fun last longer. We played with those gifts exclusively for probably a week until we put them away when we took the tree down.

Now we can’t wait to rush out early the day after Christmas to take advantage of those after-Christmas sales to get all the things we know we’ll need for next year, and buy things we really wanted but didn’t get. And we start the madness all over again.

We’re all guilty. We’re all doing it now. Every year I say I’m going to cut back. Only do one tree, not bake all those cookies, not go crazy with gifts, and sit back and just enjoy the beauty and joy of the season. But the house looked unfinished with only one tree, so I gave in and put them all up. I haven’t made cookies yet, but I’m seriously planning to

make no more than six kinds. Yes, seriously.

I’ve tried to resist getting that one extra gift for several people, and really hope I can stick to that plan, but when I say I don’t need gifts for Christmas I do mean it. I just want everyone else to be happy, and save their money for things they need, not buy things for me because they think they’re supposed to.

I really do wish for a simpler Christmas. Obviously it’s not going to happen this year. I’ve already overdecorated. I’ll probably end up making too many cookies again. I’ll probably overspend on stocking stuffers as well. And I’ll probably cook way too much for Christmas dinner like I do every year.

So maybe next year, I can start earlier, do less, and actually sit down and enjoy the Christmas season.

Maybe?

How about you?

For me, it happens just about every year around this time. Thanksgiving is done, and leftovers are being enjoyed. Black Friday shopping is thankfully over. And now it’s on to the next task of the holiday season, if you haven’t done it yet.

Decorating for Christmas. Getting out the tree. Or trees, in our case. And that’s when it starts. As I unwrap certain ornaments I can’t help but remember where I got them, and the story behind them. I remember the ones that were my grandmother’s, and my mother’s. The ones my mother bought for us, and ones she’d given us for her granddaughter, especially the baby’s first Christmas series. And my eyes almost always get a little damp….

I really think I’m over the loss, the emptiness of my mom being gone; of our traditions being over, or, I guess I should say, carried on in new ways. But then I realize I will never be totally over it, because you never are. The loss, and the memories, are always there.

It’s not just her empty place at our table; her not being around for our traditional Black Friday shopping; her name no longer on our gift list. Not being able to go to her house during the holidays. Her not being with us Christmas morning to watch presents being opened. She’s certainly with us in spirit, and always will be.

It’s the knowing she won’t be here ever again to share the joys of the holidays with us in our new ways. Her precious granddaughter Ashley is now married, with a beautiful daughter of her own. She never got to meet our Chris, or their little girl Rachel. My mother would have been over the moon in love with our little girl, and I’m sure she would delight in everything our granddaughter (her great-granddaughter) did, every gift she opened, just like she did with our daughter every Christmas. She’d have sat and played with her all day, while the rest of us prepared dinner.

And she’d be absolutely ecstatic knowing that next Christmas little Rachel will have a new sister that my mother would also totally adore. I can even picture the three of them playing together in the stack of new toys Santa delivered for both girls, with so much laughter and so much joy. She’d act like a little kid, right along with them.

My mom never laughed or smiled a lot after my dad died, but at Christmas time, when she had her granddaughter Ashley with her, that’s all we saw. Smiles and happiness. Laughter. Even when our toddler daughter was having a temper tantrum while shopping, or doing something else that wouldn’t necessarily put her on Santa’s “good list”, my mother just smiled and said, “She’ll be fine. Just let her be.” And she was.

I so miss those days. And I think of them even more often now that we have a granddaughter who is so much like her mother. I just can’t help wishing “if only my mother could be here….”

But the past is the past, and as much as we wish, and dream, we can’t change it. We can’t bring our loved ones back, as much as we’d like to. We can only imagine how things would be, picture them in our minds, and treasure them in our hearts.

No matter how old I get, no matter how many years will have passed, I will still have these feelings. They’re part of me; part of who I am. No matter how many years have passed I will still picture my mother the way she looked during her last years. Except her face will have softened, the lines disappeared, and that beautiful smile she had whenever she was with our daughter will be lighting up her entire being.

I wonder if some day our daughter, and our granddaughters, will have these thoughts, these feelings. Especially, many years from now, as they pull out the Christmas ornaments that used to be mine, and place them on their Christmas trees. Will they remember? Will they long for those “old days” as I still do?

The holidays are not only a time of joy and excitement. It’s also a time for dreams; for family; and for memories that we’ll treasure forever.

What memories do you treasure most from Christmases past? What are the things you’d most like to be able to re-live? And what memories do you hope your children and grandchildren will most remember about you?