There was once a little girl who loved Christmas. She would count down the days, begging to be the one to put the ball on the Advent tree made by her mother.
Finally, a system was devised. Based on birthdays. The one w/ the even birthday gets the even days, and vice versa. Luckily, one was born on each.
Starting on Thanksgiving, every day until Christmas the little girl would listen to festive tunes, singing along in delight. Memorizing songs, singing for no one and everyone.
Her middle name actually meant Christmas. She cherished that fact every December. She’d ponder how it was meant to be, her love for the holiday. Staying up late at night making her list and reciting the lines she wrote for Santa, she’d finally drift off and dream of snowflakes and stockings.
On Christmas morning, for years, she thought nothing could possibly be better than Christmas through a child’s eyes.
Until she had her own children, each with eyes filled with hope, wonder, and excitement.
It’s better. Much much better.
December makes this womans girlish heart happy.