My earliest memories of Christmas are those that came in Annapolis. My father drove to work every morning in our little red car, my mother busied herself with my new baby brother. The absence of knowing we had so little, a precious gift. A brand new sled expected under the tree.
The gifts you remember all of your life, are the ones hoped for the most. Christmas day spent on nearby hilly slopes ended only when hunger called. My new sled left by the front door was never seen again.
Left in it's place was a monstrosity another child didn't want. An eagle clutching arrows across it's back, red runners keeping it high above the snow. Flexible Flyer, emblazoned across it's steering slats. I never wanted to sled again.
For every winter that would come with snow in my childhood, a secret about my sled would gladden my heart. It's ungainly size allowed it to slid through the deepest of snow faster than any other. I would wait through endless taunts until just the right moment. A race to the finish, I knew I would win.
Every child should have such a special moment when they know they are the best. Shy and withdrawn all the months of the year, bold and courageous in the months with snow. even if only under the lamplight cast through a dark winter's night.
I love the coming of winter with all of my heart. My spirit soars with the anticipation of the first snowfall, and the sweetness of the memories brought about by a sled.
THANK YOU ELAINE, Honeysuckle Hollow FOR MY WONDERFUL SANTA HOUSE!