Rediscovering the True Magic of Christmas

Written By Courtney Psenicka

It was a frigid Christmas Eve in Northern Wisconsin. The sun had been long gone, and cold air blew sharply against the old farmhouse windows, while large snowflakes fell so heavily that the ground looked sparkly under the porch light. There we were, cozy inside that old family home, the smell of homemade sugar cookies filling the air, Christmas music playing, and the glow from the Christmas tree adding a warmth that you swear you could feel deep in your bones. Little 8-year-old me and my 4-year-old sister sat at the old creaky table, up to our elbows in homemade frosting, as we decorated cookie after cookie to leave for Santa that night. While stealing bites in between our hard work, my dad found his Christmas magic in watching how excited we were about making cookies for the one and only Santa Claus. Whenever I think of the magic of Christmas, my mind doesn’t wander to the presents my parents gave me, or the years when gifts were limited or plentiful. It wanders to this moment, this memory.

As an adult, Christmas somehow lost the warm, fuzzy, sparkly feeling it always brought me as a kid. My family had scattered in all different directions, my grandfather—a Christmas fanatic—had been gone for a few years, and I knew that there was no Santa, no elves, and no naughty and nice list. Christmas became less magical as I entered my early 20s. Don’t get me wrong, I still traveled home to celebrate with my sister or my parents. I got to be a part of my partner’s family holidays and enjoy endless card games, munching on snacks, and savoring both new and familiar company. So, it wasn’t that Christmas was no longer enjoyable, it just no longer felt magical.

One of the greatest joys of becoming a parent is getting to experience the magic of Christmas again through their eyes. Putting up the tree suddenly feels magical again when you see their little eyes light up at the first sight of sparkly Christmas ornaments and twinkling lights. Getting to write “from Santa” brings you back to that feeling of receiving a gift from The Man on Christmas morning. It feels as though you’ve teleported back to your childhood, and all those warm, fuzzy feelings of magic slowly come rushing back. This Christmas, my daughter is only one and a half, but as I was wrapping her few presents one afternoon while she napped, I had an epiphany.

Christmas didn’t feel magical as a kid because of the quantity or quality of the gifts under the tree. In fact, I can only remember a few “big” gifts I received as a child, and while those were exciting moments, Christmas felt magical because of the traditions that surrounded the season. It was the days leading up to Christmas that felt so special: decorating cookies at the table as a family, hearing “elf bells” outside my window (which, as my dad later revealed, was a single jingle bell hanging outside, attached to a fishing line we couldn’t see), going to sleep and tossing and turning all night in anticipation of what you would wake up to the next morning, listening to Christmas carols in the car while driving through a blustering Wisconsin blizzard, and having a family Christmas party filled with amazing homemade appetizers. All of these things are what I think of when I think of Christmas magic.

What made it all feel so special, so sacred, was the pure belief in something beyond what I could see. Believing in Santa Claus, even though I never actually caught him nibbling on our cookies in the middle of the night. Holding on to that innocent faith that I was good enough to deserve gifts each Christmas, despite having no tangible proof. Trusting that everything I knew about Santa and the North Pole was real, even if it was just a feeling deep in my heart.

What if we carried that same kind of blind faith into our lives now? I’m not talking about jolly old Saint Nicholas, but about ourselves. What if we could believe—without needing proof—that even though we can’t see what the future holds, good things are on their way? What if we could trust that we are worthy of love, joy, and success, even when life doesn’t give us all the answers?

Instead of being weighed down by worry and doubt, we can choose to believe that everything will work out in time. Just like a child wakes up each Christmas morning full of wonder and excitement, knowing that Santa will have visited—even without ever seeing him—we, too, can wake up each day with the hope that something brighter is ahead. It might not come today, or tomorrow, or even next month—but we can choose to trust that good things are on their way, and that our faith will guide us through whatever comes next.

As we move through this season, let’s remember that the magic of Christmas isn’t found in perfection or abundance, but in our willingness to believe in something greater than ourselves. It’s found in the quiet trust that even when we can’t see the road ahead, the journey is worth believing in. Just like the child who waits eagerly for Santa’s arrival, we too can find hope in the unseen, and faith in the unknown. This Christmas, may we choose to believe in the good yet to come, and in the quiet miracles unfolding around us every day. The magic is still there, within us, in the traditions we hold dear, and in the simple act of believing—because sometimes, the greatest gift we can give ourselves is the gift of faith. May we all carry that magic with us into the New Year, as we trust that better things are on their way, even when we can’t see them yet.

With Love and Gratitude,

The Mindful Mom

Court