Imagine you’re nine years old. Lying in bed. Staring at the ceiling. It’s six o’clock.

Oh, and it’s Christmas!

Finally, after the longest week of your life, it’s time to gather ‘round and open presents. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll get that one present you’ve been wanting, perhaps a present that could alter the course of your life. For me, it was an electric guitar. I could finally be like all those musicians I adored, and be the rock star every young boy wants to be.

After a two-hour-minute, I heard something. Footsteps! Was it time? The air was filled with intense anticipation. I flew out of bed and scrammed out of my room. Everyone else was up! All of the waiting was finally over, and would be worth it. I pranced into the living room. A whiff of fresh pine tree scent hit me. The lights were dazzling; the presents were glistening under the tree. It was what Christmas morning was supposed to look like. We started opening, and every time I held a new present my heart pounded. After vigorously opening each present, I was delighted with a lovely gift.

Now, there was but one present left. Did they save the best for last? I leaped off the couch, flew to the present, and shredded the wrapping paper off.

My jaw dropped.

I regained consciousness, and turned my shocked expression into a smile.

I finally had a guitar.

Even though I was overwhelmed with joy, I couldn’t have realized how this would change my life forever. The guitar helped me become patient; after all, learning how to play isn’t the easiest thing to do. It introduced me to new music, setting up the music I’d prefer in the future. Now that I enjoyed a new genre of music, I’d create friendships with those who shared my interests, and those friends make my life worth living. I guess you could say music and the guitar changed my life quite a bit.

Perhaps you’ve gotten one little present that led to something huge…