I think I was 19 the year I discovered what being a grown up a Christmas meant. Christmas wasn’t boring or forgetful, it just wasn’t what I was expecting. Somehow you realize that Christmas will never be the same as when you were little. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just different. The magic of making your wish list and running upstairs to the Christmas tree just change.
I remember it was a fun Christmas with my whole family around. My cousins were there, everyone was there. Christmas morning came and we opened our stockings and then we opened our presents. Generally I was really happy with all my presents. They were all really thoughtful gifts. Most of them practical gifts for a college student. When all the presents were opened and the morning had come and gone it hit me. I realized that for the first time in years I wasn’t sitting on the floor playing with my presents. I didn’t get any toys or games.
This wasn’t a bad thing, but it was a huge reality check. I was not a little kid anymore. It’s like when most people stop believing in Santa. Only instead of being 5, I was 19. Sitting there on the couch feeling…well just feeling different. I couldn’t even point my finger at what was so strange. I looked over at my sister and could see that she felt like that too. We just kept giving each other these weird looks.
Over the last few years I’ve come to realize that the magic of Christmas changes when you grow up. The joy you once took in Lego on Christmas morning is now the joy you feel baking weeks ahead of time only to give it away. After eating some of it of course. The joy you once took in tearing the paper off of a present is replaced with the joy of wrapping something beautifully so it looks gorgeous when you give it. The joy of tearing around the house in you pajamas is replaced by relaxing with a cup of hot apple cider and enjoying the company of friends and family. The anxious waiting until the Christmas eve service is over so you could open your 1 Christmas eve present is replaced with truly enjoying spending time thinking about Jesus, the real reason of Christmas.
Some things will never change. That Christmas my sister and I decided we would always buy each other a game or some Lego so on Christmas morning we would always feel like little kids again. That we couldn’t let go of. But the true joy in Christmas as an adult doesn’t happen Christmas morning. It happens in the small things. The smiles walking down the street, the eyes of a child’s discoveries, time spent with family and mostly through the eyes of a baby born 2000 years ago. This much I’ve learned.
Emily Sledding Last Christmas
