As I slowly awaken from a deep sleep, cool air hits my squinting eyes and I have the feeling that this is not a normal day. I close my eyes again and ponder for less than a spilt second then realize that SANTA CAME LAST NIGHT!!! I throw back the covers, ignoring the cold that would have kept me in bed for hours later on a normal day, and run to the Christmas tree. Without any lights on I quietly examine everything placed under the tree. I notice that Santa had eaten my cookies and drank all my milk. This made me feel as if I had accomplished something more important than world peace; I had fed Santa. All my unwrapped gifts that had appeared only overnight had a special aura surrounding them. Something magical. With a perpetual smile I sit and enjoy the look of the tree and all my new things. I pick up the new stuffed horse first, because horses are my favorite, and rub its soft synthetic brown fur. After I going through all of the good stuff, ignoring the sets of clothe!
             s and underwear, I traipse back to Mama and Daddy's room to assure them that Santa had come that night and brought me everything that I wanted.
             When I was seven, I would have never imagined that my view of Christmas would change so much. My "everything is for me" aspect disappeared and was replaced by a more realistic view of Christmas.
             Today when I wake up on December 25, I think about if I got everyone what they wanted, and if the all the food will turn out just right, and all the other little things that come with major holidays. I then say a prayer thanking God for giving us his baby boy, and I say happy birthday to Jesus. Christmas itself has not changed, just my outlook on it.
             As I got older, I see the commercialism behind the holiday. This realization takes away from the special feeling of Christmas. The increased new toy commercials, the plastic santas at Wal-Mart in October, all the little things I got excited over
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