I am a 16-year-old girl who loves Santa Claus.
I choose to look past the unsettling, creepiness of, “He sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake.” It does not concern me that he is essentially a child stalker. I ignore that aspect of him only because Santa Claus represents my favorite time of year. He represents Christmas.
I know it is cliché but Christmas, to me, is the best time of year.
Christmas represents more to me than the holiday where I receive gifts and do not have to be at school (although I am not complaining about that). Christmas represents the joyfulness and peace that life rarely has.
I think Christmas is why I despise the second semester of school so much. Second semester is the time furthest away from my favorite time of the year. How could I not hate that? That proves how much endearment I have for Christmas; the further away from it, the less joyful I am.
If I had the opportunity to go on a dream vacation or see my house laced with twinkling lights and white, cloudlike snow, I would choose my house. Every. Single. Time.
When I pull into my driveway after a long day and take one glance at my house during Christmas time, I feel like the weight from my day has been sucked out of me. It is like the lights coating my house are filled and fueled with my distress and then they turn it into a bright gold light that could only be described as beautiful.
The inside of my house is not necessarily described as beautiful but more as the feeling of warmth. When you walk through the door, your nose becomes consumed with sugar cookie candles and the sharp, refreshing smell of a pine tree. Christmas music falls all around you like a big hug and every corner is coated with Christmas decorations. The 12-foot tree towers over you, camouflaged with ornaments that have been with me my whole life and smaller versions of the lights that are coating my house outside. It is the feeling of home.
Doing Secret Santa with my best friends, making gingerbread houses with my boyfriend, decorating Christmas cookies with my grandma, donating money to charity, and shopping for the people I care about are what I could only describe as pure, undeniable joy. I could cry happy tears just talking about it. Christmas has made me so lucky.
Unquestionably, the aspect of Christmas I love most is the giving. The feeling of seeing my mom open up a homemade gift that made her cry, watching the look in my friend’s eyes when they realized I listened to what they said they loved after they opened their gift, seeing the surprised smile on someone’s face when they had no idea I was going to give them a gift, and, most importantly, the feeling of knowing that I got to repay everyone in my life that I love.
The feeling of giving is the perfect Christmas gift.
