Magical Night

As I approached my sixth birthday, the family seemed happier than usual. It was the night before Christmas, the tree was up with lights shinning brightly. We were waiting for the turkey to arrive so we could prepare for the next day. The plum pudding was steaming with the hard sauce simmering at the back of the stove. The fixings were ready for the stuffing, wonderful  smells permeated the kitchen.

My Dad had chopped wood for the furnace and the fireplace, we all sat and watched the fire, listening to the crackle of the dried wood. With Christmas carols on the radio.  As the youngest, I waited in anticipation for the noise of Santa’s sleigh to arrive on the roof.  We had put our gifts to each other under the tree, wondering what morning would bring. This night was perfect as we enjoyed the warmth of the fire, eating shortbread and sipping apple cider.

I fell asleep snuggled beside my Dad on the chesterfield.

We wondered why the man had not brought the turkey, thinking he was just so busy and running late as we opened our gifts on Christmas morning. My Dad always got a free turkey from work every year, so never really thought it would not arrive. My Mom was getting worried, as the turkey should be going into the oven soon. 
It never came.

My parents suggested we go out for dinner, my sisters and I all cried out no restaurant for us. So we all sat around our table as a family laughing, talking, just happy at being together despite the fact we ate salmon sandwiches for Christmas dinner.

One of my fondest memories of a Christmas.