Memories of White Christmases Past by S.D. Denny

Memories of White Christmases Past
Most everyone who knows me knows that I’m a native New Yorker that has been transplanted in the south for many years. Although I love the beauty of the warm weather and lush landscapes that the south offers, I will never give up my dreams for a White Christmas. I smile as I remember the days of my youth, watching the snow fall against the Brooklyn asphalt on Christmas Eve, wondering what it will look like when I awaken the next morning. On Christmas day, my sister and brother and I would awaken early and go running into the living room to see what Santa had left under the tree for us. But before anyone opened a gift, we’d all stand at the window, marveling at the blanket of snow that covered the ground outside our third floor apartment. It may as well had been a scene from a Thomas Kinkade painting, the kind you see on the butter cookie tins that Grandma always had sitting on the counter, right next to the holiday nuts and ribbon candy. All day, we’d watch the snow fall and listen to my mother’s Gene Autry Christmas album. Christmas day has an unexplainable beauty of its own, but a white Christmas gives the day that extra touch that makes it just a bit more magical.

~S.D. Denny is the author of "The Baker's Dozen," and soon to be released "Half."
Learn more about this dynamic author at www.sddenny.com.