I remember being terrified of Santa! 

To make matters worse, there was a PINK PIG we "got" (had) to ride before the ritual was complete.

It was downright scary.

And, thus I was baptized into our family's traditions complete with Atlanta's pink Christmas princess.

After I survived Santa trauma I could sit back and relax until the big day. And if you'd really like to know the truth, EVERYTHING about Christmas day was magical.

I could hardly sleep the night before.

All of our family's disagreements, all our arguments, any grievance we had with each other seemed to disappear on this one special, marvelous explosion of gift wrap and ribbon.

It wasn't until way later in my life that Christmas delivered its own kind of pain.

The magic evaporated like the frost on our fence post the year Tom called to tell me that Melissa's baby had died.

He stayed home that year to preach the Christmas Day sermon (because Christmas fell on Sunday). And just after we'd celebrated Santa's faithful...