When I was a kid there was nothing more exciting than Christmas eve. My sister and I would be tucked up in bed as early as my parents could manage – Often nearer Midnight than not.
The thought of Santa coming down our non existent council house chimney was the stuff of dreams and we would lie in bed desperately trying to go to sleep; because Santa wouldn’t come if we weren’t!
In the morning, long before it was a decent hour, one of us would awaken and poke at the other. Excited bed bouncing at the sight of a stuffed stocking hanging from the bedpost.
A clever ploy from our parents, we could open the presents in the stocking – as long as we didn’t wake them up until at least 7 a.m. Of course, we didn’t know that they were up to the small hours wrapping untold presents that they had somehow managed to save all year for. Our stockings had been very wisely packed. There would be a small bag of sweets to keep hunger at bay, some fruit – usually a satsuma. A couple of small toys and often, a book that would keep us quiet for an hour or two.
All through my life I have asked for a book at Christmas and it was usually my Mum that continued the tradition. Every year I’d get a hardback copy of the latest Patricia Cornwell and when my mum passed on, my wife took up the mantle.
Christmas without a book, for me, is not Christmas.
You can’t beat a good story to get lost in and I’m looking forward to this years read.
So, if you’re struggling to think of a great gift for your loved one… buy a book. There are plenty to choose from in every genre…Merry Christmas!