It is almost Christmas time.

In my home we opened presents on Christmas morning. As a child, I was so envious of the kids that opened their gifts on Christmas eve. As an adult, I would not change it for all the presents in the world.
Christmas eve was a night filled with anticipation. What was wrapped under the tree for me? Would Father Christmas bring me the skates I wanted? Had I been a good enough girl to receive the toy cash register I desperately wanted and would change playing shop forever? And what if I did not get anything I had asked for but got something much better instead! Is THIS the year I am getting a pony?
It was an evening of mixed emotions. Part of me wanted to go to sleep so morning would arrive much faster. Part of me was SO excited how would I EVER fall asleep? Eventually I was told to go to bed because I am sure my chatting was trying for even the most patient parent in the world. The choice was no longer mine and I went to bed with a smile on my face and happiness in my heart. I lay in bed singing Christmas songs and replaying the school play in my head. I imagined a poor pregnant couple walking and walking, looking for a place to rest for the evening. I imagined them, heads hanging low, as they kept walking endlessly. I could feel the texture of the robes they wore, and the rope belts tied around their waists. I imagined the beautiful baby Jesus that was their Christmas gift. Such a peaceful, happy time. Too young to understand the trials that sweet baby would later endure, I would fall asleep with a smile on my face, and such excitement in my heart.