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A Christmas to Remember When I was younger, there were two things that I looked forward to each year: Christmas, and the thoughts of getting the most popular toy topped the list; spending time with my grandfather was a close second. When I was six, in December of 1990, I found out that I was going to spend Christmas at my grandparents’ house. It was everything I could possibly hope for. Little did I know at the time, it was going to be a Christmas I would never forget, and that would change me forever. Christmas, for me, meant the pretty presents, wrapped in shiny paper with huge bows on them, which sat under the tree. It meant the Christmas tree, so beautifully decorated. It meant the splendid Christmas meal made of turkey, ham, vegetables and my mom’s apple pie. But most of all, the holidays meant the shiny new presents that I would be receiving I would sit around for weeks, trying to come up with a Christmas list good enough to rival what I knew my friends would be getting as well. That year I had to have a Gameboy, and the Super Mario World game that went along with it. I realize, now, that I was very spoiled, but I didn’t care. The holidays were a time about me, and only me. And this Christmas was going to be the best one of all, spent with my grandpa. A lot of young kids are intimidated by their grandparents, whether it be the typical “old person smell,” the inability to relate to young people, or just the fact that they are boring.
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