Christmas at Grandma’s
It was Christmas Eve and we decided to visit my grandma on the other side of the state. Arriving at my grandma’s house after a ten hour drive was a relief. The views were great, but the slick ice beneath the tires was not. I’m from Michigan, so the winters tend to be dangerous when you want to go on a road trip. There were few cars on the road so we didn’t have to deal with the traffic. Because of the freezing temperatures, even from the protection of the car, I could see my breath. My family and I rarely make it up to Michigan for the holidays, so when we do we cherish every detail.
When we pulled in we were greeted by excited puppies and family members yelling for them to get back inside. Once everyone said hello we hurried inside. It had been a while since the last time I saw my dad’s side of the family. I was glad we got our chance. My family is large, so seeing all of those faces was a bit confusing, especially since I have four uncles, two aunts, and twelve cousins, just from the immediate portion.
Walking into the barn where we held our annual Christmas parties the smell of cinnamon entered my nostrils. Before we could get our hands on the food we had to wait for everyone else to arrive. I remember going to the tree and just standing there in awe. It was the biggest tree I had seen; I wasn’t taller than the first set of branches. The lights attracted me so I reached up the grab the shiny bulb. The large amounts of presents below me, however, prevented me from getting it. Then I heard a “Ding!” Dinner was served.
Many smells and views entered my mind and body that I couldn’t stand it. Standing at the end of the table that was ten foot long and covered with food excited me; all different types with their own flavor and texture. That was the best gift I could have received. It wasn’t even Christmas yet.