Do you remember being eight? Cast your mind back to that time all those years ago...
It is still dark, the first light of morning has not yet penetrated the deepest, blackest sky and there is a chill in the air.
You are up early, way too early for anyone else in the house to be awake. Every room lies still and quiet, its inhabitants lost in the world of sleep. Only you are awake within the whole house.
It is still dark, the first light of morning has not yet penetrated the deepest, blackest sky and there is a chill in the air.
You are up early, way too early for anyone else in the house to be awake. Every room lies still and quiet, its inhabitants lost in the world of sleep. Only you are awake within the whole house.
You alone are aware that this day will be magical, that this Chritmas will hold everything you ever wanted; that the presents lined up so neatly under the tree are not just mere gifts, trinkets and toys bought from shops and carried home with heavy arms...
They are instead the fragments of dreams, gossamer threads of hope and fantasy made real, and bound to the world by love and generosity.
Do you remember that feeling, that excitement? That's EXACTLY how I feel right now... and I'm loving every minute of it!
Happy Reading.
They are instead the fragments of dreams, gossamer threads of hope and fantasy made real, and bound to the world by love and generosity.
Do you remember that feeling, that excitement? That's EXACTLY how I feel right now... and I'm loving every minute of it!
Happy Reading.
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