I sat in my chair snuggled up with my favorite blanket staring out the window wishing for snow.   The sight before me was beautiful. The tree was lit up and a few presents were under it. A single lamp illuminated the room. My dog sniffed hopefully at the large, brown box our family friends sent us. He wanted to know what was inside, and I did too.  Christmas is that special time of the year filled with joy and hope, but this year it didn’t feel joyful.  The past few months have been stressful,l and I was more than ready to have a break. My stomach rumbled thinking about the meatballs and cookies I would be eating later. 

The TV rumbled in the background as I thought about the last few months. I was being forced to work a job that I hate, we are in the middle of a pandemic, school is awful, life just sucks in general. I knew that I was supposed to be celebrating the birth of our Savior. I knew He would come again; His death and resurrection brought hope for the world. I realized that I had a lot to be grateful for. My beautiful niece was just born, I have a loving family, and I was about to get a ton of presents. Normally I go looking for my presents, but this year I wanted to be surprised. I wanted that Christmas morning joy back. 

That night, as my dog curled up next to me, I counted my blessings. There is a lot to be grateful for. I don’t believe in Santa and I didn’t wake my parents up early like I used to, but I felt like a little kid again. I forgot about the stress of the past year and vowed to never take life for granted again.