No one was around when it happened...

No one was around when it happened...but Santa still delivered all the presents.

I remember being about 6 years old (per my mom) and being so excited Christmas Eve that I couldn't get to sleep.  I was SURE that if I didn't sleep, he wouldn't come, and Christmas Day would be a big disappointment. 

My brother, Brian, and I still shared a room, and my youngest brother, Doug, was still in the 'baby room'  (the one my Dad eventually would paint pink to get me to move into on my own).  We climbed into bed after hearing, "The Night Before Christmas", for what must have been the umpteenth million time,  and tried to fall asleep - knowing that "he" wouldn't come if anyone was around.  My brother fell asleep pretty fast - in my young opinion, but dreamland evaded me...  I hoped that if I heard the paws of the reindeer on the roof over my head, that perhaps some magical slumber would overtake me, so I wouldn't ruin it all. 

I worried that perhaps my parents would stay up too late as well, forgetting how important the night was and that they too had to be out of the way for Santa to work his magic.  Eventually I heard them come upstairs and go to bed - turning off the hall light - the one they kept on for me and my brother, in case we needed to go to the bathroom during the night.  I knew that it was always off in the morning, but hadn't realized until that night that they turned it off upon going to bed themselves.  (I tried hard on other nights to stay up until the hall light went off, but didn't manage to do it again for several years.)  All was quiet as I lay nervously in my bed, not knowing what the morrow would bring.

Eventually I must have fallen asleep, perhaps it was exhaustion, or perhaps Santa really did weave his magical sleeping spell, because the next thing I knew, it was morning - CHRISTMAS MORNING!  I don't think there is a time in my life that holds as much anticipation or excitement as I felt on Christmas morning as a child.  I woke up my brother as the sun began to stream in through the  window by jumping on his bed singing "Jingle Bells".  Both of us, full of energy, went racing into my parents' room - jumping up and down on THEIR bed, until they agreed it was time to go downstairs to see what Santa brought.

My Dad would always insist on going first - he said to make sure that there were no reindeer left, but really  so he could set up the camera and capture the joy on our faces as we entered the family room and saw our stockings and gifts.  That morning was no exception.  Mom called down the stairs "Are you ready, Dear?"  and Dad hollered back "Yes, nothing here but me."  Then Mom held our hands to make sure we didn't trip and fall, and guided us into the room.  (We were supposed to keep our eyes shut, but I learned quickly how to squint and make it look like they were closed so I could see everything first.)  I remember that morning and the amazement I felt as I looked around; Santa would have made Macy's proud.

The stockings we had hung with tape on the mantle the night before, now lay on the hearth, overflowing.  They lay on top of even more gifts - coloring books, story books, paper, crayons, water color paint sets, and more.  Strewn around the room - Santa had really taken his time - was even more.   There was a set of city blocks that Santa had set up on a plastic play mat as a small city - with matchbox cars weaving through the streets.  There was an orange, furry lion stool - the lion had big floppy ears that we could pull over our laps as we sat as pretend seat belts. There was a Fisher Price dollhouse with little furniture for me, and a garage and cars with little people for Brian.  There were several baby dolls for me - and magic baby bottles that would empty as I held them to my doll's mouth. There were puzzles and games and more than we could take in - even more than we could play with in one day!  I was amazed and happy and content - all at the same time.

I think that Christmas is the Christmas I have always tried to recreate for myself and my children, always seeming to fall short of the magic that was delivered that year.  I don't know how my parent's managed - or how they even were able to get to bed 'early' that Christmas.  I remember spending days putting together toys for my step-daughter, Caroline, to simulate that experience for her - never being sure if I could ever live up to that one day.   I will always remember the feeling though - I experienced it fully 3 more times in my life, in the minutes after each of my children were conceived, far before any test could have told me why, I felt that same joy.  Perhaps the greatest gifts of all had been delivered, and somewhere deep in my soul, I knew.

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This is a Finish the Sentence Friday post, inspired by the prompt, “No one was around when it happened…” This week’s FTSF is hosted by Kristi from Finding Ninee, Lisa at Flingo and Jessica from Ramblings of an add mommy.