I thought about it. “Regular magic disappears,” I said. “Christmas magic is the kind that hides in the quiet parts. The parts where nobody is looking.”
There is a specific kind of silence on Christmas morning before the children wake up. Not an empty silence—a holding silence. The tree lights are still on from the night before, casting soft, colored shadows across the wrapped presents. The coffee hasn’t brewed yet. And for just five more minutes, the world feels like a snow globe someone has set down gently on the table. Christmas Morning at The Mabel-s - Mother and S...
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