THE AE JOURNAL

When I was younger, I often would recall my brothers and I waking up really early on Christmas morning. We were on a mission to open up the presents that "Santa" brought us. I smile when I find myself reminiscing on those past moments. Today, those times of waking up early and alerting everyone that "Santa" made his stop at our house, had since been over.

The true meaning of Christmas back then and now has always been centered around faith, family, and friends. Its clandestine meaning had always remained constant and filled with a seasoned taste for love, security, and familiarity. There is something great about being around loved ones. Familiar faces with welcoming hearts often bring forth ease to places in the heart where anxiety and despair may have slept.

Happy Birthday Jesus!, those were the words that rang this morning. There was no sounds of eager children running to open presents. There were scents lingering of cinnamon and oatmeal filling up all the rooms of our house. The music--impeccable, the Christmas tree--alluring,and my family--beautiful. A few gifts laid unpretentiously against our glitter stick of a tree. Unlike the child who I was a decade ago, my brothers and I remained patient as we started to open our gifts in the evening.

The sweet scents of oatmeal and cinnamon were mighty scents of aromas to kick off any day. This day was special, the celebration of our Lord Jesus Christ. Its sweet scents accompanied an interesting lecture on self-reflection and the importance of believing in yourself, that was one of the most valuable gifts I ever received (Thanks Mom).