And the bags go to...

...Sandy and Krista! Totally randomly, I drew for the red bag first, so my mom-in-law gets the red one and Krista gets the charcoal one. I'll ship them out to you today so you can enjoy them sooner!

Thanks to everyone who wrote about their favorite memories. I loved them all from Sandy's boots to Mom's tear-jerking memory about my dad to seeing Christmas through the eyes of children to the first Christmas with your new husband to getting to cut down your own Christmas tree with your grandfather to wondering how Santa knows when your family is celebrating your Christmas and finally, to hearing the most beautiful rendition of a Christmas carol, even when your heart was wanting to be home.

I had thought that I, too, was going to write about my favorite Christmas memory, but I don't know which one is my favorite. Every Christmas always has a special moment that makes me realize that this time of year is pure magic. People are nicer, love is shown more openly, the giving heart is in full swing.

I can remember getting a huge set of crayons one Christmas. The crayons were on this turn table and I was in awe of it. That was also the year we had "adopted" an older couple from our church as our grandparents. The looks on their faces said it all--they were so happy to be included. That was when I learned that gifts don't have to be physical things. Just a simple invitation was a wonderful gift to them.

I remember all those Christmases when we would go out to buy a real tree and my dad would work for hours trying to level it, put it in the stand, un-tangle the lights, put the lights on the tree, all while 4 eager kids and their mother would stand impatiently waiting to put our own ornaments on the tree. And we were listening to cheesy Christmas music. That is love, folks, especially when my dad would rather be doing anything else. And after all of that, one Christmas, the tree actually fell over after all the ornaments were put on. I learned from my dad that sometimes you have to do things you don't want to do, even during Christmas.

I remember all those Christmases that my brother and I would get up so early to see what Santa would bring us and then, as we got older, we still had to get up early because my dad had to go check up on cattle. Cows don't know it is Christmas. And my mom would take these pictures of us, looking tired and rumpled and smiling with our eyes closed, holding up our big gift. Every year. I learned from my mom the importance of tradition.

I remember when I started celebrating Christmas with Seth and his family. They were so glad I was there. I was surprised that they even had gifts for me--and not just a "here is one generic gift for my son's girlfriend" --an actual pile of presents for me. I knew that this could be a family that I could spend many Christmases with. I learned that "family" does not just mean your parents and brothers and sisters and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins (I have a really big family, but my point is the same) it includes anyone that loves you and cares for you.

And, finally, now I am celebrating Christmas with my own children. I am doing the things that my parents once did (and I totally agree with dad--putting up trees and lights are a big pain) and I love that my kids are so excited about it. I love sharing traditions with them and making new traditions with them. I love finding the magic of Christmas--something different each year.

Here's to the magic of Christmas.