writing

Christmas Morning

She snuck out of bed, kissing him gently as she slid out of his arms. It was Christmas morning, a very special Christmas morning.

She made her way down the hall. The door to the room where the girls slept was slightly ajar. She paused and smiled. She was thrilled they wanted to be here on this holiday. It made their dad so happy, which made her happy.

She walked into the living room and turned on the tree and the lights. It was a winter wonderland. The glow from the soft lights warmed up the room. The gifts they had wrapped together only a few days before were scattered under the tree.

She yawned and stretched, then turned to the kitchen. She set out a small spread for the four of them, and made sure the furry family members weren’t left out. Soon the smells of hot chocolate and sweet rolls filled the house.

The rest of the household woke up and followed their noses. Soft footsteps come down the hall. The rubbing of sleepy eyes was followed by grins and giggles as they filled their plates and settled around the tree.

The youngest was designated to pass out the presents, and soon the living room was littered with wrapping papers and tissues. The girls, well young women really, laughed and looked over their gifts.

Their father sat there, his eyes glistening, his smile so wide, his dimple so deep. He sipped on his drink and relaxed among the glee filling the room.

She looked across the room at him and smiled. She loved it when his face lit up with happiness, as it was this morning. A grin slipped across her lips along with a light blush on her cheeks. It was the Christmas she’d waited for all her life.


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