Favorite Things

Years ago, when The Greatest Kid On The Planet was five, I sat with him on his bed on Christmas Eve before he fell asleep, and I read him a timeless little tale called The Polar Express. I remember the excitement he felt that night knowing that Santa Claus was coming, and the delighted look on his face as a fanciful book took us on a magical journey to a wonderful place far away.

The Polar Express was written by Chris Van Allsburg and published in 1985. It’s an enchanting little story that warms the heart and stirs the soul. In 2004, a film adaptation of the book was released, and while the movie has become immensely popular, it’s the written version with its rich illustrations that I treasure. Today, reading that delightful tale on Christmas Eve has become one of our favorite traditions.

The book tells the story of a young boy lying awake in his bed on Christmas Eve, hoping to hear the sound of Santa’s sleigh. Instead, he hears the hissing and grinding metal of a train that has magically appeared in front of his house in the middle of the night. So outside he goes in his slippers and robe to hear the voice of the conductor calling him to come aboard. When the young boy asks where they are going, the conductor replies, “Why, to the North Pole, of course.”

I’ve put off writing about Christmas for about as long as I can stand. We love Thanksgiving and gathering with our loved ones. But once the turkey goes into the fridge, and I’ve eaten my share of pumpkin pie, I’m ready to celebrate the most wonderful time of the year.

Tomorrow is the first day of December, and it’s time for our annual Christmas tree decorating bash. It’s the evening when we fill our home with the people we love and ply them shamelessly with food and spirits while they help us decorate our tree. It’s a win-win for everyone and one of our favorite celebrations. There will be Christmas carols in the background, more food than we can eat, and more than a few cut-throat rounds of Twister. The Greatest Kid On The Planet and I are already placing bets on which ornament his Uncle Peter will break.

No matter the occasion, one thing you can always count on in our home is that there will be music playing. The Greatest Kid and I spend inordinate amounts of time dancing around our kitchen, and the holiday season is no exception. We start playing Christmas carols right after Thanksgiving, long before the leftovers are gone.

I grew up in a home filled with music. I was raised listening to the greatest of the greats: Elvis Presley, Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and the incomparable Andy Williams. The Christmas music my mother played each year on the stereo in our living room is forever imprinted in my mind. And today, it isn’t Christmas unless I hear Mitch Miller And The Gang singing Santa Clause Is Coming To Town or Elvis Presley lamenting a Blue Christmas.