I never believed in Santa Claus. My
brother and I read books explaining Old St. Nick's origin and
Christian roots. Our family focused on the birth of baby Jesus and I
never felt I was missing out by not believing in Santa. If anything,
it gave me an excuse to be mischievous.
Like arranging a plate of cookies for “Santa” and putting the cookies Dad didn't like there.
We left plenty of room for the wonder of the season. Still, by the time I arrived in junior high, all that mattered was being cool. Christmas wasn't cool. I didn't feel like celebrating anything related to God anyway.
Today, I'm honored to be guest posting for my friend Jennifer Deibel of This Gal's Journey. She's invited a few of us to share a favorite Christmas memory. And while this one doesn't start out promising, it sure ends well. I had fun remembering it all over again as I wrote. Head on over to read the rest and be sure to peruse Jen's blog while you're there.
FYI: If you'd like to share a Christmas memory of your own, Jen is hosting a link up the last day of the series.
