Sunday, December 26, 2004

The arrival of Christmas always is a bit of a let down these days. The run up to the festive period is so drawn out and the workload prior to the holidays is so incredibly heavy that by the time 25 December arrives it never meets my (probably too high) expectations. I'm not saying that I don't enjoy it, however I always think it should be more magical than actually turns out to be.

Obviously, as you grow up, many of the special features of Christmas disappear; the excitement of Father Christmas leaving a large stocking full of gifts at the foot of your bed; Christmas morning spent opening what appears to be an endless pile of presents from your family; and of course the white Christmases that seemed to fill my childhood.

The other thing about Christmases as a child was not knowing what presents you were going to get. These days I'm usually asked for present ideas from my friends and family as I'm "hard to buy for" and even David's lovely surprise of a diamond ear stud wasn't a real surprise as I guessed what it was weeks ago.

But I suppose the reason that Christmas seemed so much more special as a child is that Christmas is really a festival for children. Children who believe that a red-clad old man climbs down your chimney to deliver you presents and who can listen in wonder to the story of the Nativity.

Posted by Antz at 11:59 PM | Permalink | | |

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