I’ve always loved Christmas. I collect Christmas movies, ornaments, decorations, jewelry, clothing, toys – just can’t seem to get enough of that stuff.
When I was a little girl I had a mission to prove that Santa was real. Every year I’d sit in the window seat determined to stay there until I saw Santa. I never did see him, and I always fell asleep, often waking up with my cheek stuck to the freezing window pane and shivering.
But no matter what anyone told me I still believed in Santa because it was somehow right that there was a person who existed in the world to just make people happy. Whose purpose was the joy of others. That had to be real, didn’t it?
And I think that purpose to make others happy in in all of us but really blossoms around Christmas time. Sure, we love to receive gifts and attention but isn’t the real joy in doing that for others? Aren’t we more excited about how happy our child or spouse or friend is going to be when they open our gift, or eat the cookies we baked or see the tree we decorated?
For me, that was always the pure joy of Christmas – to make others happy. Nothing makes me happier than to make others happy.
And I think the reason I write is to make others happy too. I want to give them the joy of reading a story they will love, that will make them feel, or believe, or laugh or cry – or all of it.
So, in honor of Christmas this year I’ve published two Christmas stories to Amazon:
I hope you enjoy them and I hope more than anything, they make you happy.