Childhood Magic

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We would gather our things,
Everything needed to survive the night
Blankets, flashlights, matching pajamas
Making our way into the cave that was my brother’s room
We’d laugh, and tell stories
Each of us staring at the dark, blank ceiling,
Content
As the night drew longer, our voices grew silent
Not asleep quit yet
Patiently listening for the noises we had always dreamed of hearing
A stomp
A jingle
The crinkling of wrapping paper
Or the munching of cookies
Perhaps we’d catch a glimpse of a red hat
Or the tail of a reindeer
Our hearts were beating with excitement and belief.
After eternity had finally passed, morning would arrive
Not realizing we had fallen asleep to begin with
It was time to make our way down to the special tree
The birthplace of the magic
 






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