I'm the first grandchild. When I was 2, on Christmas Eve, my grandparents started something that continues even now that the grandkids have kids of their own. It was a small gathering that first year. I suppose it was my two grandparents, my two parents, me, my aunt and uncle, and another uncle. And Santa. Yes...Santa came that Christmas Eve, and he's come every Christmas Eve since. Through the years, the numbers grew. There were my brothers, and cousins. Then years later, I brought a spouse into the family, and the other grandkids started adding theirs too. A few years later, I added the first great-grandkids, and my cousins and brother followed suit, and some of them are still adding. By now, it's a large and loud gathering. My grandparents sit back and enjoy the numbers and the noise. I think Christmas Eve is probably the one day of the year they look forward to the most. They love to watch us play games, and even though they're in their mid-80's, they still love to play themselves. Whatever brings us all together, they love to see it and be a part of it. I love when my grandpa ("Poppy") brings out the Domino's and gathers up enough players to play Mexican Train. But the highlight of every Christmas Eve is Santa. I really don't remember that Christmas when I was 2, but I remember many Christmases since, when my aunt would take us to the bay window, and we would watch. She was so animated...she made it real for us. I swear, if we looked long and hard, we saw Santa's sleigh lights in the sky every time. And then there was the anticipation...once we saw his lights, we knew he would soon be knocking on the door. So we'd wait, and without fail, he would knock on that door. In awe, we'd open it, and let him in. He would greet everyone with a "Ho, Ho, Ho", and then take a seat. He would put down his big red bag of gifts, and slowly, he'd reach in and pull out one at a time, and call each and every one of us, the infants to the aged, to sit on his lap and collect our gift. It really never mattered that he sometimes looked like a neighbor...or his shoes seemed familiar...or that he had regular clothes peeking out from under his suit. It didn't matter that, for some reason, the grandparents kept a Santa suit in their basement. None of those things took away from the magic. I'm looking forward to Christmas Eve again this year. I will wait for Santa, as I have for many years, and I will sit on his lap when he calls my name. And, and always, I will still feel the magic.
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