Personal Narrative Essay About Christmas

I've been truly blessed with several Christmas memories throughout the years. There have been many Christmases with countless wonderful memories. However, one Christmas memory stands apart from the others.

I was eight years old. Today's typical eight years old child has most likely given up on the idea of Santa. However, at this time in my childhood, the circle of friends closest to me seemed to be split into two sides: the “believers” and the “unbelievers”. Outwardly, not only did I believe in him, I defended his existence. I would challenge the “unbelievers”, providing my friends with reasons for his existence with replies that only a child could believe. However, inside doubts began to form in my mind. I would contemplate how Santa Clause could overcome all the challenges he must face while delivering toys to all the children of the world, in just one night. I longed for some kind of Christmas miracle to happen that could restore my faith in Santa Clause.

After waiting all December long, Christmas morning had finally arrived. My sister and I eagerly sprang out a bed and gleefully shouted for my brothers and parents to wake up. Mom and dad would always make us wait upstairs until they had gone downstairs to set up the camera and get settled in for a morning of unwrapping. The

Mom and dad had a funny look on their faces, as they sipped their coffees. "Santa has brought one more gift this year, but it didn’t come down the chimney and couldn’t be wrapped”, dad said. I looked around at my siblings. We all had puzzled looks on our faces. Dad motioned for us all to climb up on the couch. Joy beamed for their faces, as they told us mom was having another baby in a few months. I knew for sure this was the miracle that I was waiting for. Being eight years old and uninformed of how babies are actually brought into this world, I thought Santa really could have been