By Kara Adkins
Online Copy Editor

When I was young I had high expectations when holidays rolled around. I knew that every year on Dec. 25 Santa Claus would eat my burnt cookies I set out for him. Every Halloween buckets of candy would be dumped into my living room from a pillow sack. And every Thanksgiving I waited anxiously for the blessing to be said so I could begin feasting.

Yet time has caught up with me over the years. It seems that the holidays are not as jolly as they used to be. The Christmas lights no longer leave me in awe, the Thanksgiving meal is just a reminder to spend extra hours at the gym, and Halloween is just another night to catch up on homework. Nobody warned me that in return for growing older, the magic of the holidays would disappear.

I am not some ‘bah humbug’ kind of person. I still love the holidays, but it seems to be for different reasons. As Christmas rolls around I am not looking forward to going Christmas caroling or writing Santa a mile long Christmas List as I did 10 years ago. I am looking forward to two weeks away from school and being with my family.

Maybe in some ways it is as if the true meaning of the holidays has set in as I have aged, but in others it is sad to think magic only existed for me when I was a young girl. The lights, the music, the aroma of peace and joy – it all seemed so fascinating when I was a child. Although I now I have a much better understanding of the holidays, I no longer feel them like I used to.

I was driving home from Kentucky this Thanksgiving when I heard something on the radio that rattled me. The broadcaster said how on average people spend 19 and a half hours Christmas shopping. I began to think about the amount of times my mother has had to go from store to store just to find a certain brand of item I wanted. It sickened me to think about how shallow I have become. When I was young I did not care what was in the boxes, I just could not wait to rip off the wrapping paper and be surprised.

When I was a child I wanted nothing more but to grow up, but now I would love to put my aging on hold. My parents always warned me that being a child would be the best days of my life, and maybe in some aspects that is true. I was able to wear mismatched clothing and still look cute. I had fairy tales told to me every night before going to sleep. And I was wonderstruck by every single present under the Christmas tree.

Now, Santa Clauses in the mall creep me out, and I stress about the cost of each Christmas present under the tree. Aging brings this new practicality I never had to take into account before. I never thought I would want to go back to those awkward years where I had gap teeth and frizzy hair, but looking back they do not seem so bad.

Although the magic I felt on holidays when I was young no longer exists, I refuse to believe that magic disappears all together. I like to think magic still exists; it is just more rare and harder to come by. The day I graduate and move my tassel to the side I will feel that magic. And years from now when I start a family, that magic will return.

Maybe the holidays have changed, and maybe life is moving too fast for me to even catch my breath, but that does not mean that the joy has disappeared. This world is just so hectic it is hard for me to take a minute and truly enjoy all of my blessings.

This Christmas season I am going to build a gingerbread house and eat the entire thing, I am going to stay up all night anxiously awaiting Christmas morning and I am going to sit around the whole day in my pajamas listening to Christmas music. Because no matter how old I get and no matter many responsibilities I am hounded with, there will always be days reserved to act like a kid again.