Growing up, Christmas was my favourite time of the year.  Decorations everywhere, carols playing, holidays, summer, swimming, presents, and time with family and friends.  There was magic in the air and the hope of wishes granted.  Christmas day was spent just Dad, Mum and I.  Our little family of 3.  And I loved it.  Roast chicken for lunch, and plum pudding dessert.  Talking and laughing.  Happiness.  And the years went by.  And then Dad passed away and Christmas died.  The season became an empty display of muted colours, songs without melody and sad memories.  And until this year, I wasn’t sure I would ever feel again the way I used to feel in December.  Until, that is, Sophia discovered Christmas.  Completely enchanted, she remarks at every star and banner and decoration we see.  Her face lit up when she came downstairs one morning to see the tree standing there, a surprise for her, and she called to me so excitedly to come look.  We paid a visit to Santa and she beamed the biggest smile.  My little Christmas fairy, sharing her joy, her wonder, and love.  And for the first time since Dad was with us, I feel the spirit of the season again.  And it’s wonderful.  I hope I can give Sophia the beautiful memories of Christmas that I have.  And I wish Dad was here.  M x