Written by author Sandra Magsamen.
When I was a little girl on Christmas mornings, whichever sister woke up first would wake up the other four sisters. We then lined up at our parents' bedside to wake them up so we could all see if Santa had come. My father would rub his eyes, pull his legs out of bed, and put his feet on the cold floor to begin his journey downstairs to check. My mother wrapped her robe around herself asking, "I wonder if Santa came?" My sisters and I were firm believers in Santa. When my father finally hollered from the living room, "OK, you can come down now," we all ran down the stairs, thrilled to see the lights twinkling on the tree and the mounds of brightly colored packages. We would each pause for a second to take in the magic of the moment.