Bursting with all kinds of feelings. Excitement, content, joyful and a tiny bit of annoyance knowing it will take a while for my parents to wake up. I couldn’t even imagine all the presents downstairs waiting to be opened and played with. I crept downstairs to see if Santa Claus has stopped by.

My eyes drawn to the lit christmas tree .The lights filled the dark living room with joy. A majority of its ornaments were homemade. My favorite ornament sat low to the floor where I could reach it. A small snow globe of ol’ Saint Nick in his sleigh with eight reindeers pulling him through the snow storm. I’m almost like Mother Nature, being able to command a storm just by the shake of a hand. Surprised at how all the presents filled the room, I look down seeing four stockings hanging from the railing filled to the top with little goodies. As I pass the soon to be fun filled room, I entered the kitchen.

I open the tall white refrigerator, packed with food barely enough room to fit a tupperware container inside. The turkey on the bottom shelf waiting to be put into the oven and cooked for our annual Christmas turkey lunch. The crispness of the skin, and the moist turkey meat makes my mouth water just thinking about it. I pull out the bottom drawer.There sits a bag of oranges.

I picture the time my mom told me about my grandfather’s Christmas experience. I imagine myself in his shoes Christmas morning. The joy in his young eyes gazing at his stocking. A single piece of fruit like an orange sat inside his stocking.He had it way worse than us. Not even having three meals a day. I realize how lucky I am.

I look back at the living room. Each individual present worth way more than an orange. Our perspectives were very diverse.

I ran up the stairs to wake up my parents.