I hang the final bobble on the tree, eyes shining like the hundreds of lights. The pine spins slowly on its pedestal, happy to be the center of attention. Happy to be celebrated and wanted in every household. I can’t even think of a year where we didn’t have a Christmas tree that touched the ceiling, the presents stacked underneath yelling to be unwrapped.

Now I sit in front of my own tree in my own house. Snuggled up on my couch with hot chocolate and a book, the fire crackling softly in front of me. And I think, ‘Yeah… This is the perfect holiday memory’.

Posted by:emileeh

I'm a young writer trying to get into the freelance business. I enjoy writing creative pieces like short stories and poetry and reviews.

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