The First Christmas Of My Family

It is curious that as children, humans have the ability to observe and remember details of specific situations and instances yet lack the ability to describe them. Truman Capote, as a grown man, took advantage of his vivid memories and composed the short work, "A Christmas Memory." The story begins in late November, a month symbolic of all the years gone by that Capote could remember beginning preparations for Christmas fruitcakes.

Joshua Catlin had had a great life with his two parents, dog, and grandmother. His parents were firefighters with the assistance of the best dalmatian firefighter ever, their dog Body. Joshua’s grandmother was a bank teller for the Seattle Bank. Yep, they lived in Seattle! They loved all the excitement and opportunities it had to offer, and the rain. Their family was not the richest, but nor were they living on the street. Either way, they were thankful for what they had.

“It’s not fair,” I huffed, “I don’t want to leave! This is my home!” My mother’s brown eyes stared back at me, filled with a knowledge and understanding I had yet to possess and would lack for years to come. She left the barren living room, leaving behind a trace of the fruity perfume she always wore. It was futile to argue; the boxes were packed and ready to be loaded onto the trucks in a few hours. Having nowhere else to sit, I descended to the floor. The light oak wooden floorboards that used to be clothed in rugs were now naked. In the next month, new pairs of feet would walk on these boards.

When the sky was bright and the cold mississippi wind blew, I trudged out of the shack in the snow and went up to the back door, thinking I should go say Merry Christmas or Good Morin’. I got to the door and it opened up very slow like it was some kind of sloth not wanting’ to move. When I got to the Logan’s, Cassie, Christopher John and Little Man ran up to me.

The early morning air is cool on my skin, but the bright sunshine promises heat by ten am. The sprinklers on the neighbor’s lawn go off, signaling that it is seven o’clock and we need to get moving. I smile as I open the car because today is the last day before winter break, and tomorrow will be baking day. I quickly set the large bag of presents in the trunk of my father’s car, and hurry back into the house to get the cookies and my backpack. Inside the door, I am greeted by a large and heavily decorated Christmas tree. On the mantle sit stocking hooks and a windmill cresh rotates on the coffee table surrounded by pinecones. Passing into the next room, one feels as if they have stepped onto another planet. The chandelier id still draped with

The children’s reaction to the Christmas gifts sent by their parents was overwhelming sadness. Ditching their attention to the toys themselves, Bailey and Maya felt abandoned and unwanted; their parents had made no effort prior to this to make contact with them. Maya was “confident they were both dead,” imagining her mother lying in a coffin with her hair spawn on a white pillow. She viewed this year’s festivities to be a “terrible Christmas” with its “awful presents.” She found her father vain and expectant to send a photograph of him along with the gifts. Her pain notwithstanding, she went outside by the chinaberry tree in the cold winter air, where she “sat down and cried,” Bailey pursuing her, “wiping his eyes.” The glooming silence

I was shocked to hear our plans for the day. Looking at more dogs? It had been less than a week since the last one and the newspaper ads hadn’t given us any options. I ran to my room, took my New York Yankees Baseball Cap off the hook and ran to tell my siblings. They were equally as shocked as I was. The three of us couldn't tell why my Dad, who never wanted a dog in the first place, wanted to go searching for one now. But I had an idea about why.

As Duncan hugged his sister Ceana, he caught a flash of blond enter the room, as a huge Golden Retriever bounded into the room and raced over greet Duncan and planted himself in front of the siblings. Thump, thump, thump his tail beat an ecstatic tune against the floor expressing his pleasure with the arrival of the guests. All the while making a deep happy sound in the back of his throat to show his joy and impatience’s with his need to be acknowledged as a four-legged family member.

Economy is not doing so well. Its become cold and not many crops are growing. Its Christmas. Officially my third Christmas in America. But I don’t celabrate it. See I am not Catholic or Christian I am Polytheistic and the owners don’t like that. Still here I am on Christmas day working. Another reason our kind is hated so much. Europeans believe that only people of their religion were right. As of the today they re-assigned me back the the cotton fields for a short amount of time. Its been a regular day that is until I look down on my arm I see the long scar that the owner whipped me with a few days ago. I traced my fingers around it. And I decided I didn’t want to live like this anymore. Grabing a small bag I put in what ever I could find

I glanced down at the scruffy Chihuahua mix happily chewing on a discarded stick, her tail furiously wagging back and forth. When she heard her name, she quickly lifted her brown head and looked up at me before returning to her previous task. I smiled and snatched the stick from the ground, slowly backing away from her. Princess quickly stood up and let out a defiant bark, which earned a laugh for me. She playfully lunged at the stick multiple times until I gave up and tossed the stick over my back, watching her chase after it. Princess was such a unique dog, and I was grateful that my uncle got her for me after years of pleading my family for a dog. At first, I was little bummed out because she was a small dog and I wanted a bigger breed, but I immediately got over that within an hour or so of having her. She was nothing short of a spitfire, and she had such a great personality. It was impossible not to love her. If anything ever happened to her, I

“Meet Ivan,” my mom said when we met our new dog. Ivan was an English mastiff, and as a puppy, was taller than me. He barked really loud and drooled so much. Not the ideal dog for me. However, I did ask for a dog and got one so I was happy none the less. As Ivan grew older I began to really attach to him, and he really adapted to our family. Overall Ivan was a really good dog, but my story does not end here.

I’ve always been a dog person, though never having a dog myself, I outsourced other experiences, and began a dog walking service in my home town. Moving to San Diego for my education, I have unfortunately no time to take up this unofficial job again, but have had made many friends who own dogs themselves. Hanging out at their houses, I have engaged in many interactions with three particular dogs. The first, Finnegan, is owned by my friend Cambridge and is an Old English Sheep Dog, the second my friend Reilly’s unknown mix of mutt named Joey, the third is my co-worker Tara’s: a St. Bernard named Boston. Upon each visit, (one each after this assignment was given) I have kept a journalistic recording of my socialization with each of the dogs in

It was so close to Christmas I could almost smell the steaming marshmallow filled hot cocoa in the air. After we had been at my aunt's house all day it was finally time to open one present! “ Go pick out your present but remember it can only be from a relative” said my mom. I walked over to the Christmas tree which was in the corner near the rusty yellow cabinet. I admired our Christmas tree decorated in our new shiny ornaments, and our old memory-filled ornaments. I pick the one with reindeer wrapping and huge red bow. “ To Spencer, From The Ayers” it reads. I gently tear the wrapping paper from the square looking box. “ Could you go any slower” said my dad. I rip open the present a little quicker. I finally unravel the grey sparkely tissue

It wasn’t until the morning of Saturday, May 21, 2016 that I realized what the true feeling of unconditional love was. The moment a parent looks into his or her child’s eyes there is just so much love it’s unbelievable. People think they know what love is when they love a significant other, family member, or a close friend; however, that love is nothing compared to the love a parent experiences the day his or her child is born. That is the love I felt the moment I placed my beautiful baby boy on my chest.

I think Christmas has always been one of my favorite holidays. Maybe because of the special atmosphere that you can feel everywhere, in shops, restaurants , pubs and even streets, where you can hear the magical carols, or maybe it's because of its religious background, but what I can tell you for sure is that I can't think of anything more exciting than the image of the entire family preparing the Christmas Tree or fixing the Christmas dishes.