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SIXTH GRADE//CHRISTMAS

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SIXTH GRADE//CHRISTMAS

~MAGGIE~

When I opened my eyes, the smell of balsam and smokey fire immediately filled me with warmth. I shot up in my bed and turned my head to the right towards my dresser. There, resting on the knob of the top drawer was a light blue stocking with a snowman wearing sunglasses surfing on a wave. When I had gone to bed the stocking hung lifeless but now it seemed to be filled with small, unknown gifts.

A bright smile took over my face as I heard footsteps in the hallway. I whipped off my blanket and ran to my door. Swinging it open I yelled, "I'M AWAKE, I'M AWAKE! MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!". My dad was standing right in front of me, still in his pajamas, and I jumped up onto him. We stayed for a moment wrapped in each other's arms until he laid a kiss on top of my head and whispered, "Merry Christmas kiddo" before setting me back on the floor. He gave me a quick pat on the back ushering me back into my room.

"Is mommy up?" I asked, wondering where she was.

"Yes she is, she's downstairs prepping a few things for brunch, she's coming though."

Usually both of my parents were right at my door on Christmas morning, I didn't like that break in tradition.

"MOOOM," I called down the stairs, "LETS GO!"

"I'm coming, Nemo! Go pick out which one you want to open first" she shouted back up to me.

I groaned a little but followed my dad back into my room and pulled my stocking off the dresser drawer. My dad was sitting in his usual spot on my floor with his back pressed up against the edge of my bed and I assumed my place in the middle of the room, laying out my stocking and grabbing all of the gifts out of it to be opened.

"Alright," she took a big breath in, "I'm here, good morning baby girl Merry Christmas". Mom's spot was right next to me, in fact I always moved to be practically on top of her.

All the gifts were wrapped up in literal brown paper, partly because of how much we loved The Sound of Music, mostly because my mom always said it wasn't worth it to spend money on decorated paper when you were just going to rip it up and throw it away.

I pulled out the last presents, counting in my head as I went, 5... 6... 7. I spread them all out on the carpet in front of me so that I could compare their sizes and open them from smallest to biggest. None of this was out of greed, I wasn't spoiled and I knew very well not to act like it. It was all tradition based, things I started doing when I was three and learning to count, learning to organize shapes and sizes, once I did something once it was very hard for me to let go of it.

We spent the next hour or so opening my presents. As I unwrapped each one I would squeal with excitement, and whatever it was I made sure to give it the proper attention it deserved before moving onto the next one. Each unwrapped gift came with a hug for my dad and a kiss on the cheek for my mom. I always wanted to make sure they knew how thankful I was.

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