Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Memorable Christmas

I can only remember one Christmas party growing up. I do not remember it because it was enjoyable. I remember this party because it was the first time that Christmas was less meaningful than before.

It was the first year after I had found out that there was no Santa Claus. That alone would have any child bitter. But it was also a few months after my father had left us, and soon after killed in a motorcycle accident.

There was no Christmas tree, no lights, no decorations. Just a pile of gifts my mother had wrapped sitting in the cornor of the living room. I was twelve years old, and it was Christmas eve. Nothing seemed right. My moms family came up to cheer her up and celebrate the holiday, so they left me and my brother at home with our cousin and went bar hopping. We asked if she would be up in the morning to watch us open presents. She said to go ahead and open them tonight if wed like while she was out.

We opened our gifts without any tadahs. No flashing camera in our face, and without my mom yelling "hold it up, let me see what you got". I was bummed.

From then on I vowed to myself that Christmas in my house would always be a special time. After that I did all the decorating, and put up the Christmas tree. Year after year my mom slowly got back into the spirit. Even today, as I live on my own, Christmas is a big deal. I can't always afford gifts but my house is decorated before Thanksgiving even arrives and as Christmas comes the music softly plays throughout the house. I never want to experience a Christmas like that again. It broke my heart.

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