On Christmas Eve I wait for the magical man...some call him St. Nick, some call him Santa. I call him/her...a spirit. I'm not a religious person, not raised in a religous family.
But I was raised to believe in miracles and spiritual things, things of magic and imagination.
So I know I will glimpse the merry spirit of the magical night of nights. I always feel a special stirring in my blood as I sit in the dark with the tree lights to light the way.
The night is quiet as if it waits also.
In my heart, the child believes.