I remember as a child how I felt on Christmas Eve. My mother was a pushover so if you wanted to know what she got you, you could usually get it out of her. The, what if I don't like it, always worked. In a family with six children the amount of presents surrounding the tree was
tremendous. My father would get the Christmas tree early, but never put it up until Christmas Eve. He put the lights on and most of the ornaments. It had to be perfect. One Christmas he covered the tree with tinsel, it looked like one huge lighted icicle. My preference always was no tinsel, because I wanted to lay under the tree and look up at all of the gilt and illumination above me, a mystical winter woodland, all in one single tree. I use to love the feeling of looking up from under the tree. It was so Christmas. I don't know if I could get off the floor these days. And Florida doesn't give that Christmas feeling, when you are used to being in Vermont. But this is how I like it to be.
The house in a snowstorm is a Christmasy sight. It give me that feeling. Tell me candles don't do it.
Looking out on a snowy scene just brings it all alive.
I miss sitting in front of a fire trying to warm my cold toes. There's nothing like it to enjoy your Christmas Eve.
It's a dream on a delicate snowflake. It's Christmas Eve memories.