Kailee Spalding

2nd Hour, Daniels

Senior English

December 20, 2021

My Christmas Memory

One of my best memories of Christmas I have was when I was ten years old. It was dark

when I woke up that cold morning. Though everyone else in my house was sound asleep, I was

wide awake, giddy with excitement. I slid out of my bed, and walked over to the door, my feet

making barely a sound on the flattened carpet. I opened my door, making sure it didn’t squeak as

I snuck out to the living room. The cool lament in our kitchen made me shiver, and I tried not to

make a sound. The time, I remember, was 4:42AM. I crept into the dining room, and noticed the

half drank cup of milk and the bites missing from the cookies on our special Santa plate. I

grinned, knowing Santa had come, and walked into my parent’s room.

I woke my parents by climbing on their bed, excited as it was one of the best days of the

year. I snuggled next to my mom, and began to bother her until she woke up. My dad was not as

pleased as I was, because he likes his sleep. He told me to go back to sleep, to which I refused.

My parents, finally giving into my annoying tendencies, got out of bed and told me to stay in the

room as they set up the video camera and brought my sister to the room. My cat, who was alive

at the time, had wandered into the bedroom and began butting her head against my leg. I picked

the gray tabby up, and began stroking her back while waiting. The door opened and my little

sister, who was nine, walked in.

 The both of us waited in excited silence, at least on my end. I was pretty sure my sister, in

her nightgown matching mine and carrying her pink blanket, was annoyed to be woken up. With

the anticipation, it felt like hours until we got called out. I remember seeing my mom sitting in

the grayish-blue couch made from a rather ugly fabric, and my dad sitting in the matching chair.

The lights were on, a rather big change from the darkness of the room I was sitting in a few

minutes before. I set the cat down, and looked wide-eyed at the tree. It was twinkling, the

multi-colored lights reflecting off the silver tinsel, our ornaments we got every year since my

first Christmas looking like stars against the evergreen background.

My sister and I rushed over to the piles of presents wrapped under the tree. Atop the stack

was a huge plush of Minnie Mouse, almost as big as I was. I grabbed it by the hand, and hugged

it, my head on top of the fuzzy mouse's head. I, after my mom gave us the prompt to open our

stockings, grabbed the red velvet stocking with an embroidered silver ‘K’ on it. I put my hand

into it, and pulled out a toothbrush, I believe. There was candy and a bunch of little fun things in

it, but the best was yet to come.

My sister and I began opening the actual gifts. The first I remember opening was a shirt

box containing a black shirt with Minnie Mouse on it. The trend would continue, with me and

my sister getting many Disney-themed things. One of our biggest gifts we got that year was new

heavy-duty suitcases. Mine was a plain purple, and my sister’s was zebra-patterned.

After we were finished opening our gifts, the bomb was dropped. We were going to

Disney. My sister and I panicked after hearing that, for we were not packed or ready to leave. My

parents found this funny, because everything we got that year was for this trip. That year was one

of my best childhood memories, and it was incredible to know, years later, that everything I ever

knew about Christmas was due to my mom’s efforts.