My childhood was an extraordinary stage of my life. I lived in a little city in north of Chile, La Serena. Life in that place is so peaceful, at least for a child.
As a littler girl that I was, I expected Christmas every year. The first days of December my dad, my mom, my two brothers and I went to buy a Christmas tree, it was a pine, a big pine branch, and then in home, we planted in a bucket and then we armed the christmas tree.
The night of 25 of December we had dinner with some friends or just with our core family ezactly at 10 o’clock and we used to have a long after-dinner conversation until the 12 am, that’s the hour that “el viejito pascuero” (Santa claus is too distant to me) supposed arrive to give our gifts. So we take a ride to try to see him, and when we were leaving the house my dad got sick, he always said "I’ve got a terrible stomach ache, I can’t go with you, I really need go to the bathroom”, but the treachery of the moment made that pass. When we back to the house el viejito had gone through the house, year after year, it was always the same, I remember that one night I cried for it, but my parents always thank the way to make smile again. After all that paraphernalia we sat in a circle around our beautiful tree y open our presents. It was a awesome date J