By Ann Farabee

When I was growing up, Christmas was very special. My parents went above and beyond. Christmas food was plentiful for at least a week. Christmas gifts seemed to be much more than we deserved and probably more than my parents could afford.

On Christmas Eve, as I was in the bedroom I shared with my two siblings, I would always listen for sounds of Santa moving around in our living room where the Christmas tree and the chimney were located. Apparently, Santa would never arrive until after I fell asleep.

After a long restless night for me, it would still be dark when my father would come into our room and loudly say, “Looks like somebody’s been here!” That was our signal that it was time to get out of bed and go see what Santa had left for us under the tree.

Our living room would be covered with gifts, especially after they had been unwrapped and the wrapping paper was strewn everywhere. We would spend our entire day looking through our gifts, trying them on, using them, playing with them or looking for batteries. Santa never left batteries. Late in the evening on Christmas Day, when it was time to go back to sleep, we would try to find the perfect spots to keep the gifts. This comment was always made at the end of the day from my father, “Santa sure was good this year.”

The day was over. But, even though the gifts had been opened and put away in their new home, I was still happy, although the decorations and lights from the tree had been put back in the attic for another year — and were now only memories.

The star on top of the tree was often the last memory of Christmas to be put away. It was a gold star with a white light behind it. It was beautiful, and I always handled it very carefully, because to me that star felt like one of the most important parts of the holiday.

I still think of that star. Just looking at it seemed to tell a story of hope — just like it did that night at the manger when the Light of the World was born.

Just like it did when the wise men saw that star and followed it to worship Jesus, the One who had been sent to be born in a manger, so that he could grow up as the Light of the World who would save the world!

Just like the gold star with the white light that I would take out of its box year after year and place on my family’s Christmas tree, it still shines in my heart.

I love that Christmas will always be special, no matter our age.

I love that Christmas will always be a time of good tidings of great joy.

Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace, good will toward men.

Lord, thank You for peace, joy, love, and salvation that we have because of Jesus. Amen

It truly is a Christmas miracle! Ann Farabee is a teacher, writer and speaker.

Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or annfarabee.com.