Do you still remember Christmas morning as a child? As an adult, Christmas has become the most stressful holiday of all holidays. Many of us now are responsible for hosting, shopping, and planning visits.
So, the joy of celebrating Christmas may have a different feeling than we remember. However, thereโs nothing like that feeling of waking up that morning as a child.
The night before Christmas morning
From the moment December 1st begins, the countdown to Christmas for a child seems like a lifetime away. Theyโve carefully planned their Christmas list and delivered it right away to their parents for Santa. And whatever last-minute gifts they find are quickly shared just in case.
Then before they know it, school is out for winter break, and Christmas Eve is here. They put on their pajamas and are so anxious that they can barely sleep. But finally, they do, and the hours tick down to the big day.
Well, thatโs how I remember it. As a child of the โ80s and โ90s, Christmas was more important than my birthday, and Christmas meant more presents, Christmas snacks, and a house full of people or going to my grandmaโs house in Harlem for even more gifts.
The night before Christmas was just a ball full of anxiety because I couldnโt wait to see what I had. We lived in a two-bedroom off of the Fordham Road section in the Bronx, and I shared a room with my older brother, a seasoned pro of Christmas Eve, and knew when Santa would visit. My sharing of a room changed once my sister was born.
Despite it being the holidays, our bedtime didnโt change. It was 8:30 pm, and we had to be in bed. To us, that meant we had to be in our beds. So, of course, we faked our sleep once we heard my mom come to the curtain of our doorway to check on us.
And after that one check, it was a race to fight sleep just to get a glimpse of Santa putting the presents under the tree. We never did, though. However, a few times, we were woken by the dropping of something here and there.
Our Christmas morning was like no other
The following day weโd wake up at 7 am, pull back the curtain, and there before us was a tree full of toys under it. So many toys that it covered half of our living room rug. It looked like Santa had gotten my brother and me everything on our list.
However, we couldnโt dig in right away. Every year was the same. Weโd go and ask our sleeping parents when we could open our gifts, and it was always 8 am. It was because they were too tired to get out of bed. But around 7:30 am, theyโd always cave and tell us we can open it all. My dad would put on the Temptations Christmas CD, and he and my mom would sit and watch our gifts open.
Christmas morning in my household was filled with opening every gift in sight. Some were wrapped, but many werenโt, and they all had a tag to tell us whose gift it was. And towards the end, when we thought weโd opened them all, there was always a big surprise gift.
I remember one year I was so disappointed that Iโd gone through all my gifts and didnโt get my number one gift. Now what I knew about Santa was that he always brought me my number 1 on my list. But this year it wasnโt there. Or so I thought. With his sneaky self, my dad told me to look deep behind the tree.
Theyโre behind everything was a long-wrapped gift, and when I opened it, there was my number 1 gift. A Super Nintendo and the games I had asked for on my list. From the age of six until sixteen, our Christmas mornings were just as surprising as the year before. And we enjoyed every moment of it.
Grateful for those Christmas mornings
Christmas mornings for my siblings and me were special because my parents werenโt the wealthiest. In my younger childhood, my dad was the one who worked while my mom was a stay-at-home mom.
And there were plenty of days throughout the year where she made meals stretch, and my dad couldnโt afford to give us the things we wanted. But somehow, they managed to make one day out of the year seem like we were the wealthiest people in the world.
As a child, sure, the toys were important, but I remember seeing how happy they were that they could make our Christmas so memorable. And every year, they never disappoint. My mom made Christmas day the day she envisioned for her children.
She made sure we had stockings stuffed with little toys, candy, and more, even though we didnโt have a fireplace to hang them on. She made trays of decorative Christmas sugar cookies to eat that morning after opening our gifts. And she always made sure to fill the candy dishes with Christmas-themed Hershey kisses and mini candy bars.
And when she got a job, it didnโt change much. At that time, we were old enough to help with making the day special. However, nothing beats those mornings as a kid. My parents did what they could with what they had, and thatโs what made waking up on Christmas morning that much special.
It wasnโt that we expected those great Christmas mornings every year because our parents showed us that the littlest things in life could be satisfying. For us, the whole setting of that morning made it the best. We were spending that time together before the chaos of extended family.
Conclusion
As I got older and the Christmas gifts changed, I still reminisce about those days, and I still look back on the pictures from those days. And for a long time, I thought Christmas was like that for everyone. But it was the magic of my parents that made our Christmas mornings what they were.
Share some of your memories as a child on Christmas day in the comments down below. And donโt forget to follow me on Instagram, @thesilenttorch, for daily affirmations, weekly challenges & check-ins, updates, and positive words.
Until next time this is Tammy saying keep strong, keep positive. And Happy Holidays!!!
