Personal Narrative: My White Christmas In My Family

It would have been an ordinary day if not for the bells. I first heard them while I was in the bedroom. With their characteristic high pitched sound, I immediately recognized the tune they were propagating. I happily ran out of my room and danced to the medley of “Jingle Bell Rock”. I have not yet finished dancing but I giddily went outside to see what the field in front of our house looks like.
The first thing I noticed was white. Everything was white. A coat of soft snow glazed every patch of land. Children were running around, throwing snowballs at each other while laughing so hard I think it must have hurt. Teens were riding around these metal sleighs, trying to outrun each other. I guess they were having a race. The adults, on the other

My family is your normal working class family. My father, who drives a tricycle during those times, is the breadwinner of the family and earns just enough to help make both ends meet. We live in a rural place and our house is situated between agricultural fields. Suffice to say, the grand celebration of Christmas akin to those of western countries and even in the affluent parts of our country has never been done in our household. As far as I know, Christmas for us is just as normal as any other day of the week. But that did not stop me from

If Santa cannot enter the house, then I’ll bring the socks outside the house. I figured out that maybe if I hang the socks in our terrace, Santa will have no more need for a chimney and will just proceed to park his sleigh in front of our house. VIP, oh diba? Maybe he’ll give me additional gifts because I was a resourceful child, and if I was lucky enough, he can even adopt me as one of his elves. Nevermind the fact that I’m not an elf. For me, everything was possible.
The first problem was sorted out. It was only after solving the first dilemma that I encountered my second obstacle. I went to our Durabox to find socks big enough for Santa’s gifts. He’ll give me many presents, so I really need a large socks. I really wish those elephants I saw on TV wore socks so that Santa won’t have a problem fitting all his gifts into these skimpy socks I found. They were the size of my tini hand. They were obviously for my chubby feet, but these weren’t enough for the gifts.
I resorted to using a pillowcase instead. They were biggest and most presentable thing that I could substitute for a sock. I could have gotten a sack, but that proved to be too shabby. I was afraid the sight of a nylon sack hanging in our terrace will scare Santa away. I do not want to lose my