December 21, 2017
Creak. Thud, thud, thud.
“Abby, wake up!” Henry said excitedly.
I opened my sleepy eyes just enough to see out of and flinched a little. Henry was so close to my face I could count his eyelashes.
“What do you want?” I asked him sleepily, still not fully awake.
“It’s Christmas, come on!” He responded, a hint of desperation in his voice.
I checked my bedside clock. It read in large, red letters, 6:30 a.m.
“Henry, are you crazy?” I asked, “It’s 6:30!”
Finally, he yanked me out of bed, throwing the warm sheets off of me.
I timidly pushed open my door and looked around.The hallway was quiet, and shadows of furniture fell across the wooden floor in the sitting room. A faint whir could be heard from the heating unit. Outside, I could see snow falling slowly, twisting and twirling like beautiful ballerinas. As we rounded the corner of the hall, I felt my stomach flutter with excitement. Christmas was here!
Finally, we found what we were looking for. Nestled under the tree and piled by the fireplace, on chairs and the coffee table, were presents of all shapes and sizes. Packages with glossy wrapping paper, delicate bows, their silky folds tied into perfect knots, shiny tins promising delicious treats, stiff bags decorated with Christmas trees, fairy lights, and Santa hats, and finally, four knit stockings bulging with tiny treasures.
I looked at Henry. A smile crept across his face, making the edges of his mouth crinkle a little. As I stood, I realized how lucky I was to be there, snow falling outside, a warm house to live in, and presents of all kinds in front of me.