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When I was a child, I use to believe, When Santa came to visit me, As he placed the preasants under the Christmas Tree. To my dismay, he never disappointed me. Santa always surprised me. The pretty packages, wrapped all sweet, with the colors' of bright reds and greens,or Silver and pink. The smell of the cookies that mama made, still lingered in the air, Now lay on a dish, for Saint  Nicholas to appear. Chestnuts that roasted in the oven, with the fire aglow. Always seem to keep me on my toes. The stockings hung over the mounted mantle, over the fire place, that waited patiently, to be filled with toys and candy. Mama singing Christmas Carols, always put me in the mood. These are the memories, I keep in my heart so dearly, Is the meaning of what Christmas means to me.

Daddy in the kitchen, cooking gracefully, While mama and my brother made ornaments to be hung on our tree. I myself stringing popcorn on a thread to make the garland. Mistletoe hung over the door, to complete the scenary,that awaits for momma and daddy to uphold the promise of kissing each other so they willl never be apart or alone, Forever in love. A giant wreath, hung on our front door, elegantly. Welcoming our friends and family. This is what Christmas, means to me. Many years has passed but I will never forget, All the wonderful memories, my mother has taught me. Will continue on in my family. This is what Christmas, means to me.

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