The Perfect Christmas

I read this about a year ago and I just thought it was a precious story, so I wanted to share. Merry Christmas!

The Perfect Christmas

“MOM! DAD! WAKE UP! SANTA’S BEEN HERE! SANTA’S BEEN HERE!” This is what I wake up to on my Christmas morning. Still listening to the chorus of voices singing to the beat of small feet running down the stairs, I roll over to look at the clock. It’s 6:00am, but I definitely don’t mind.

“Merry Christmas,” My husband whispers as I roll back over to face him, “are you ready to see what Santa has left us this year?” I couldn’t have asked for anything better than this. We lay there for a few more moments just staring at each other and listening to the joy that is overflowing from our living room.

“MOM! DAD! ARE YOU COMING?! YOU HAVE TO SEE WHAT SANTA BROUGHT!” We hear our cue, and quietly get up. I slip into my bathrobe and follow my husband down the hall. When I turn the corner into the living room, I pause, trying to take it all in: the full stockings, pile of presents, and the warm colors coming off of the tree reflected in the excited looks of my children’s eyes. It’s hard to believe that it was just five years ago that we had our very first family Christmas with only one baby. Now, look where we are. There’s my oldest son, a strawberry-blonde five year old running around like crazy trying to look at everything at once. And then there’s my middle child, my sweet three year old girl, following right after him, her ringlets flying everywhere. Finally, there’s my husband sitting in the old rocking chair playing with our youngest, a one year old girl. He’s such a good Daddy to all of them, and I can’t wait to give him my surprise Christmas present for the year.

“Mom look! Santa filled up our stockings and everything!” That statement, so excitedly made by my son, pulls me out of my memories and back into our living room.

“Well, lets see what all he’s brought this year!” I respond, and then it begins. Aaron is put in charge of handing out the gifts this year, since he is the oldest and has been learning his letters in Kindergarten.

“M…O…M… Mom, this one is for you, and it’s from Santa!” His excitement is definitely contagious, and makes me smile as he brings me the box wrapped in gold paper.

“What do you think it is?” I ask him while shaking the box. I gently tear the paper and find a beautiful sweater set that I had been looking at for months, but was over my budget. “Why, Santa knew exactly what I wanted! He has such good taste!”

The next gift is for Grace, the three year old attached to my side on the floor. Excitedly, she tears open the paper. Laying there in a box is a gorgeous baby doll, complete with blinking eyes and a red and green Christmas dress, almost like the dress that Grace owns herself. I watch her face as she removes the paper and her eyes light up as she takes it all in. Her squeals of delight beat any sort of present I could have received.

The ritual continues, each gift another piece of joy. My husband helps our baby girl Bailey open all of her presents, setting his to the side. She is so happy with the simplest of things, and it makes me thankful for everything around me. Their smiles, so full of joy, make everything around me seem absolutely perfect.

Finally the pile begins to dwindle, and we have all almost finished opening our gifts. There is one left for me, one for Aaron, one for Grace, and one for my loving husband, Jacob. Aaron gets a train set, just like he always wanted. Grace gets a beautiful golden locket to wear around her neck.

Now there’s just two more presents left, one for me and one for my wonderful husband. He tells me to go first and I tear the paper to find a small wooden box. When I open it, a beautiful song plays. It’s a music box he made himself, and it’s playing my favorite song of all time, the song we danced to at our wedding. I lean over and give him a kiss, the only way I can remotely think to thank him. And then I feel it again, the small butterfly flutter in my stomach, affirming my final gift for my husband. As I pull away from our kiss, I smile at him and remind him that he has one more gift to open. I watch his face as he removes the paper to reveal just a small note in a box. He pulls it out and reads out loud what I have written to him. The note says, “Dear Jacob, your gift isn’t quite ready yet, but I promise you’ll love it. It should be delivered in approximately nine months. Merry Christmas, Daddy! All My Love, Emily.” He stares at the note for another moment before grasping my meaning.

“Really?!” he asks, so many levels of excitement shining on his face, “You really mean it?!” and he leans over to kiss me one more time. There really is such a thing as a perfect Christmas.