My Christmas was not meaningful but it was memorable – for all the wrong reasons. My mother said, “Don’t worry, we’ll be together next year.” I hope she’s right.

On Christmas Day, my fever still hadn’t broken, so I stayed in the hotel while my mom and grandma went to join the rest of our family. I ordered some soup and faded in and out of sleep.

I hadn’t realized that exercise had become my Christmas Day habit, a way of soothing my nerves and giving me a chance to reflect on the things I am grateful for.

At Christmas, there's joy and magic. But sadness and loss are present, too. Losing my Aunt Amy on Christmas Day shattered my innocence and the sense of safety that children are lucky to have.

On Christmas Day, 1950, my father’s younger brother died in his lap. A week or two before, 8-year-old P.J. had stepped on a rusted can. This was rural Ireland before the good years.

In 2019, after relapsing multiple times, I stopped drinking. I was discharged and decided to treat Christmas Day as any other day, not to be pressured. I didn't have the urge to drink, and it was ...

This is a sweet poem for Christmas Day. Get a copy of this free My First Christmas in Heaven Poem Author Unknown printable. A great Christmas gift and reminder to those who have lost someone since ...

Yan was born on Christmas day. Paola Dyboski-Bryant Celebrating Yan's birthday. The Christmas of 2018 made me realize that my family being together is the most special gift that anybody could ask for.