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This page is a simple page of a story I found that touched me
for some reason. Its what makes up a part of, for me, what the true meaning of Christmas is.
This will be my last Christmas or Holiday page for the year. Next year, there
will be other kinds, regarding causes and the Earth and of course, The Children.
Thank you for taking the time in coming to see my work and to share in this with me.
Merry Christmas!
Love always,
Brighteyes *~*



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The Meaning of Christmas
by anonymous

Well, next Wednesday will be the 30th Christmas of my life, and I'm not ashamed to say that I can't wait. That's right. I'm sitting here staring at this dad-blasted Barbie Rapunzel that my wife and I went all over hell and a half-acre to find, and I can't wait to see the joy in my daughter's eyes when she opens it. After searching for weeks and weeks, we couldn't find one anywhere, and had begun to ease her into to the idea that she might NOT be getting a Barbie Rapunzel from Santa. In fact, we had already told her that the elves hadn't made enough Barbie Rapunzel's, and that Santa couldn't get it done for this Christmas, when we found one. Man, will she be excited when she sees it Christmas day, and that's why I love this holiday more than any other.

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Excuse me if I get a little sentimental with this column. I just love this holiday and feel like talking about what Christmas is really all about - at least to me. I mean, I could make this a religious column and say that we need to focus on the religious aspects of Christmas. And, I could sit here and talk about how Americans overspend and over-do every Christmas and go into debt, but that's not what Christmas means to me and that's not what I want to concentrate on. No, Christmas, to me, is the glow in a child's eyes - the exhuberent excitement that keeps a 5-year-old from being able to sleep on Christmas Eve. Christmas is about having the opportunity to make a dream come true for someone you love at least once every 365 days.

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This last year has been a rough one on the family. My mother, who is 56 (but doesn't look a day over 40), was recovering from knee surgery when she had a stroke. Her doctors said she was lucky to have survived, but I don't believe that. I think we (me, my brothers, my father, and all the grandkids) were the lucky ones, because we would have lost the presence of the strongest woman I've ever known - the true backbone of our family and the person that built the tradition of Christmas at our house. Let me explain.

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My parents are both teachers, so my two brothers and I grew up in a house where there wasn't a whole lot of money to be spent on frivolous things (teacher appreciation and salary are different columns for another time). There were some months where we got down to Tuna Casserole or Pinto Beans for supper, but there was always a hot meal on my plate and always love served up in great portions. My mother would do without, so that my brothers and I could have the things we needed and wanted. I remember years there where my mother didn't buy new clothes for herself in order to cloth and feed three growing boys. Suffice to say funds were limited at my house, and we did the best we could with what we could afford...except for Christmas.

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My mother always made sure that Christmas was special. Christmas was the time that dreams come true. She'd ask us all three to write down what we wanted and to include at least one "wish" gift in the list. A wish gift was a big one - one that you could only dream of, because it was too expensive or too big to enter into your reality. But, my mother wanted to know what our wishes were, now, as an adult, I know that she wanted to make our dreams come true.

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It never failed. At the crack of dawn on Christmas Day, my brothers and I would rush into the living room to find a pile of presents around the tree. I don't know how they managed it in a time before credit cards, but the pile was always about 15' in circumference and about 3' deep all around the tree. We would just stare in awe at what "Santa" had brought us, and then we would tear through the house screaming, "Santa's been here! Santa's been here!" and my parents would roll out of bed to join us in the living room.

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There were socks and pants and shirts and other stuff you tossed to the side. There were candy canes and chocolote Santa's. There were toys galore, and then there was always one gift left just for you, hiding way back behind the tree, and my mother or father would always say something like, "Well, it looks like there's only one left. Go see what it is." And, you'd slide that gift over to you, still glowing from eating chocolate santa's and opening Star Wars action figures, and wondering how Christmas could get any better. You'd take your time opening it, because it was the LAST one, and then you'd see it. The wish gift...the one thing that you never thought you'd get for various reasons, but there it was, and it was yours.

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This year, when my daughter wakes up, she'll stumble to the living room and scream down the hall, "Santa's been here! Santa's been here!" and our tree will be circled with pile of gifts just for her. She will tear through them until she gets down to the last one - the one way behind the tree - her wish gift - Barbie Rapunzel.

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And I will sit there and know that my mother gave me the best Christmas present that I've ever received - the notion that Christmas is really about making your child's dreams come true for at least one day out of 365. For that, I have to say, I love you, Mom - and thanks for showing me all those years just how to be the best parent I can be.

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Always remember, that child was you, not that long ago really. And the thought
of Santa, was one of the most exciting things you could imagine! *S*
Did you forget? Ahhhhhhhhh I see.
Well, here is what you do. Tonite, at about 11, certainly before Midnite *S*,
Get all tucked in bed, and take yourself back to when you were a tiny person.
Close your little eyes and trust.
And if you truly believe with alllllllllllllllllllll your might, around that time, sometime
around midnite, you will hear Santa's Sleigh Bells. Oh yes you will.
Trust me about this. BUT, you have to believe with the heart of a child, otherwise
you won't hear them. I bet if you let yourself go there and remember, you will be
hearing those Sleighbells and will fall asleep with a gleem in your eyes and a grin.
And you will remember that awesome moment of that time.
I am very serious about this. Write me an email and tell me what you experienced
and share with me what you heard.
I bet you will tell me, you did! you did hear the Sleigh Bells. *S*
Love yas,
Merry Christmas Eve.
Brighteyes *~* and Montie(")


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