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Holiday magic is passed down from one childhood to another so let’s try to do this right

A heartfelt thanks to Sears Canada for sponsoring this holiday post.

When I was a kid, we’d lay out our Christmas stockings on the back of the living room couch because we didn’t have a fireplace. We’d put out milk and cookies for Santa (but never a carrot for the reindeer!). Then my parents would tuck us into bed where I lay trembling with anticipation, sure that I’d be lying there awake all night long.

Of course, I would fall asleep eventually only to spring out of bed at the crack of dawn. My siblings and I would rush into the living room to see what Santa brought and then go bounding down the hall into my parents room to wake them up too.

“Mommy! Daddy! Santa brought me a She-Ra doll. Can you believe it?!”

My parents would stagger out of bed, bleary-eyed, and put on the kettle for tea as we pored over the contents of our stockings.

Santa’s presents were never wrapped in our home. They were laid out in front of our stockings, the sheer number of them already making an impression on me from across the room. Santa’s magic must have been real because there was no way my parents could ever afford to buy so many toys.

Finally, we’d settle in and take turns opening the wrapped gifts under the tree. Those were from my parents, grandparents and assorted other relatives. Eventually we started to wrap gifts for one another, too.