I wish for the kind of Christmas I had as a child - a time when I baked cookies with my grandma as we listened to Mario Lanza albums that were as heavy as manhole covers and drank ice tea with too much lemon.
My brother and I made little elf houses out of shoe boxes to encourage magical visits from Santa's scouts. I even saw Santa once, way up in the sky in his sleigh, as we were driving home from my paternal grandmother's with our standard gift tin of German lebkuchen. I worried we wouldn't get home in time and Santa would pass right over our house.
A wondrous time when the usual family depression seemed to lift and everyone was excited and hopeful.
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