There’s No Place Like Home
SEEING the pair of ruby slippers in the shop window atop a set of stacked golden cushions immediately sparked happy memories.
Melissa loved the magic of Christmas. The excitement that swept through everyone, spreading the happiness thickly like raspberry jam on a scone topped with a huge dollop of cream. It felt like a yearly gateway to the past, each year and memory becoming more precious.
She’d been six years old and remembered the day as if it were yesterday.
“Nearly there, Dad,” she said as she watched her father stretch to carefully place the silver star atop their now decorated Christmas tree.
The fairy lights twinkled in haphazard fashion, blinking their rainbow of colours and making Melissa feel as if she’d been transported into a fantasy world.
“All done,” her dad smiled.
“Do you remember our tradition, sweetie?” her mom asked. “That the youngest member of the household always opens a present the night before Christmas?”
Melissa nodded