ThirdEDITEDMy memories of Christmas are happy. I can remember my Great-Grandmother Annie coming to the house to teach my mother how to make Scotch shortbread and my Grandmother Gwen coming to teach her how to make Welsh Cookies. It always smelled so good around Christmas.  My brother and I were always in a state of anticipation; we could hardly wait until Christmas morning.

On Christmas Eve we would hang our stockings, put the milk and cookies out for Santa and climb into bed. What was surprising was that our Christmas Tree was nowhere in sight. That was the job of Santa Claus. Yet somehow, during those hours between our bedtime and when we got up in the morning, the tree went up and was decorated, the train and village was under the tree, and Santa had left all the gifts! When we entered the living room, it was magic!

Christine M.