The slowest night of the year – at least for most children – has to be Christmas Eve, right?
There is the magic of Santa, the presents waiting under the tree, late-night church services, and butterflies in your stomach with the anticipation built up over an entire year!
I’ll take it though.
Little heads sleeping and low fires popping can make for a beautiful night.
Feels ridiculous about blogging about this in August, but I am where I am…
THERE ARE TWENTY-FOUR HOURS IN A DAY. Only twenty-four. That translates to 1,440 minutes or 86,400 seconds. Every single day of my adult life. But as a boy, there was one night every year that lasted longer than any other—one night when clocks actually slowed down. This phenomenon generally occurred near the end of December, specifically the night of the twenty-fourth . . . Christmas Eve. I had gone to bed at 9: 00 P.M. after leaving a note, pound cake, and a glass of buttermilk for Santa Claus. Every Christmas Eve for as many of my seven years as I could remember that’s what I left him: a note, pound cake, and a glass of buttermilk.
-Andy Andrews, Socks For Christmas