Christmas Through the Eyes of a Wee Child

By DiAnn Mills @DiAnnMills

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Christmas wewe3Christmas makes children out of all of us. Actually, writers are kids who failed to get the memo that it was time to color between the lines. We play and worship during this season with the same enthusiasm as a child.

I remember the Christmas I was three years old. The vivid accounting could not possibly be true—or could it?

As a lively three-year-old, I often woke during the night for a drink of orange juice. My parents soon learned to keep a small glass in the refrigerator.

christmas-993134_1920On Christmas Eve, I woke to make the trek to the refrigerator for my OJ. The lights from the tree lit a pathway across the living room to the kitchen causing the darkness not to be so ominous. I remembered Santa was coming and quickly drank my juice then set the empty glass back inside the fridge.


Who is this magical man who flies across the sky?

On the way to my snug and warm bed, I passed by the Christmas tree. Oh, how I loved the twinkling lights, mesmerized by their quiet beauty. Still do. They remind me of the star that guided the wise men to the baby Jesus. I paused in front of a large window to gaze up at the starlit sky. To my amazement, Santa in his red and gold sleigh led by eight reindeer flew high above me.

My little heart pounded, and I raced back to bed for fear Santa would stop at my house and find me awake. The next morning, I scrambled from my bed to make sure he’d brought my toys. To my joy, the toys I’d dreamed about were under the tree.

A child’s imagination for a future writer? Or a magical happening to a wee child?
This Christmas explore the season filled with wonder. Take time to journal what this special day means to you. Perhaps it will be a birth of renewed commitment to God and the special gift He’s given you.

Do you have a Christmas story that is dear to you? Would you share it with us?

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DEADLOCK by DiAnn Mills - FBI: Houston Book 3