Making Magic

     Harry Potter is magical; but nothing beats the magic of Christmas with children.  Twelve people, one house, two weeks off of school, cookies, lights, trees, music, and snow falling softly outside the window.  It’s the perfect concoction for warm memories.

When I was in 5^th grade, I questioned Christmas magic.  Most of my friends told me that Santa wasn’t real.  I finally approached my Dad about the subject.  After a few silent moments, he read, “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,” to me.  Then he taught me a wonderful lesson about the magic of Christmas. 

Magic doesn’t just happen.  Magic is made.  Just as Harry Potter had to learn he had magical powers, parents and families can create warmth and magic in their homes.  At our house, we make magic as early as possible.  Christmas caroling, twelve red stockings hanging by the fireplace, homemade gingerbread houses, and a secret Twelve Days of Christmas.  Too much celebrating?  I don’t think so.

Tree Trauma - Our First Christmas in Wyoming

When we moved from Las Vegas, Nevada to Casper, Wyoming in 2009, I was thrilled to start a new life of simplicity in the “wild” west. As we packed our belongings, I put our plastic Christmas tree into the donation pile. 

“We won’t need a fake tree in Casper,” I confidently told my surprised children. “There’s a mountain there and we’ll just cut down our own tree.” In my mind I pictured our first Wyoming Christmas, driving “over the river and through the woods,” to select the perfect Christmas tree.

As our first Thanksgiving approached, I reminded my husband that we no longer owned a Christmas tree. 

“We’re Wyomingites now!” I told him in a patriotic tone. “We’ll cut down our own tree.” Dutifully, he drove to the BLM office and purchased a permit.

“It only cost $7!” he reported jubilantly when he returned home. “What a deal!” He showed me the permit and the map of designated tree cutting areas. Words like “Shirley Basin” and “Medicine Bow” were new to us, but they didn’t look too far away on the map, so we weren’t worried.

The day after Thanksgiving we bundled our eight children--including two infant twins--into the family van. Our spirits were high and we sang carols as we drove. However, our happy “over the river” singing soon drifted into silence as we drove out of town and around Casper Mountain.