The Night Before ChristmasBlog
posted November 28th 2018
I am 57 years young, with 3 sons and 5 wonderful grandchildren (3 girls, 2 boys). I love to write, having self-published twice and am a bit of a social butterfly when I get the chance. I have been an army wife living in Germany and more recently worked in Kuwait contracting. Now my bones are creaky and I have some Ill health I spend time at home writing and am an avid social media nut, keeping in touch with my friends from around the world is very important to me.
Want to read later?Add to My Hub
When I was a little girl my Nana would read ‘The Night before Christmas’ to me several times every December while I sat with her, often playing with her hair in her big old cream chair by the roaring fire in the lounge. I loved the smell of Nana and Grandad’s house, it always smelled warm and yummy with food smells wafting in through the kitchen and Christmas time was always extra special.
As I got older I realised the reason I wasn’t allowed into the grand old parlour at the front of the house was because that’s where Santa hid his presents.
I continued the tradition of the book with my own boys when my eldest was as young as nine months old, and right on through as I watched the three of them grow into young men.
With their Xmas eve bath done and their new pyjamas donned every year, we would leave milk and a mince pie out for Santa, then they would sit quietly excited for what the morning would bring and I would read to them whilst hearing my own Nana’s voice as I read every word out loud.
The boys themselves became word perfect, and then in their late teens, I realised one year as they were getting ready to party, that even my youngest son was growing up, throwing around so much aftershave which wafted through the house making us gag, and even next doors cat didn’t bother sneaking in for its yearly assault up my Xmas tree before stealing Santa’s milk and skulking off into the night. He obviously couldn’t get past the strong aroma that would probably make his tiny feline eyes smart.
Sadly and reluctantly in 2005 I put the book safely away.
Fast forward then to 2012, my first grandson Ollie, just two weeks old and sleeping in my arms, I read the book to him, watching his eyes flicker and I am sure I saw a little smile.
Since then I have read the book to Ollie’s brother Harry, Savannah and her sister Scarlett, and my youngest grandchild Sophie. And no matter what’s going on, and amidst all the childish chattering and Disney movies playing out in the background, they will sit and listen whilst my Nana’s words come through my own lips, I read and re-read every year in three different households to cousins who one day (I hope) will read it to their own children and grandchildren.
I know my Nana would have loved the family I have now, and I am sure that every Christmas she is somewhere listening too.
Julie’s Family Holidayread more