Some of my fondest holiday memories surround family when I was young. I remember one December my Dad and I searching for the perfect live Christmas tree. My Mom worked on that particular Saturday morning so it was up to Dad and me to pick out a tree at a local lot. I was eight or nine and any tree would suit me, but Dad was quite particular. I’d pick one out and he’d look it over and say it had a large open space with no branches, or it wasn’t tall enough. Being a kid I was impatient, but when he finally picked one out, I had to admit it was the best one on the lot.

As an only child, I don’t want to think I was a spoiled brat, but I have to admit, my parents went all out for Christmas. However, it’s not so much the gifts I remember, it was the moments they made special for me. On Christmas Eve, Mom, Dad and I would climb into the car and drive around town looking at the homes decorated with holiday lights. Dad turned on the radio so we’d know where Santa was on his overnight journey.

After we arrived home, I’d set out cookies and Mom would help me make hot chocolate for Santa. It was difficult to get to sleep, but eventually I would, dreaming of sleigh bells on the roof. On Christmas morning, it was always Mom and Dad who were up first. As I left my bedroom and entered the kitchen, only lit candles provided any light. The flickering candles added to the magical charm and in the living room, only the tree lights were on. That’s what I remember most”¦.not the gifts, but the way my parents made special Christmas memories for me.

During the month of December, we attended Christmas concerts at the church. Although I didn’t sing, I loved hearing the familiar Christmas songs, with O’ Holy Night one of my favorites.

I also remember the wonderful aromas that emanated through the homes of my grandparents on Christmas Day. Whenever I remember those packed houses, I can still smell the aroma of baked bread, dressing, and ham.

As an adult Christmas doesn’t seem to have the same magical effect as it did when I was young. But I have and will cherish those special memories all my life.

Jessie Delacroix leaves the hustle and hassle of a new career as an assistant investigator for a law firm in Savannah to return to her roots in the small tourist town of Whispering Pines. The 25-year-old dynamo is not prepared for the ghosts who await her there in the haunted Bed & Breakfast and Tea Room that she inherited and now must operate.